Returned
by LadySeradeRETURNS
Summary: Sirius has RETURNED. Everyone else is older, wiser, and have left things unsaid. As Sirius deals with his new old life, romance accidentally happens, but someone still loves Hermione.
1. The Stranger

_A note from Serade Black: Here we go again! I'm nearly done with the outline to this story, thanks to Tatiana422, the Narcissa to my Bellatrix. _

_This is the revised version of this chapter, since it's already been posted for quite sometime now. If you've read this before, please take the time to maybe read it again. You'll see a few subtle, grammatical changes, but mostly I just wanted to get it out there._

_I hope you enjoy the new ride I take you all on!_

**Ch. 1 - RETURNED**

Some things cannot always be foretold. Generation after generation has sought higher education in distant countries to find answers to ancient questions. The time now, is not something that was written in a book, nor planned, nor seen as clearly as a moving picture. The question in our minds now may ask if we have the ability to turn back time, believe in the power of divination or to follow a prophecy.

On Halloween night, number twelve Grimmauld Place was settling in. The occupants had long since retired to bed, the portraits had been wished a good evening, the left-overs from dinner had been packaged and the magical self-propelled knitting set had put itself away. The house creaked here and there, showing its age and the grandfather clock in the parlor chimed its two o'clock dong. As consistent lighting illuminated the curtains of the house, a quiet rumbling was heard in the distance that a storm was coming. Down the old set of stairs leading to the kitchen, a kettle steamed from the stove, indicating that the water was now ready to brew tea.

Hermione Granger quickly tapped the kettle with her wand to put a silencing charm over it, so as to be a little bit considerate of the upstairs dreamer. Hermione quietly padded across the cold stone floor to pour the hot water into her readied cup. She replaced the kettle to the stove, so it would be there ready for the morning brew. Bobbing her tea bag up and down in her cup, she listened as the quiet threatening storm began to tap raindrops on the window like a music conductor beginning the first few notes of a powerful orchestra.

The house, even after living in it for two years, still gave Hermione an unsettling chill. Harry and Remus had done their best at giving the house a thorough clean; disposing of anything dark or evil that may have created a special vibe that offset the entire house. The old tapestries had been taken down and had been replaced with fine collectables and quidditch trophies.

The house had fallen into Harry's possession, having been left the house by his late godfather, Sirius Black. Sirius was the eldest remaining of the Black family and therefore, left it to the hands of good, rather than into the hands of bad, his cousin Bellatrix Lestrange. The house had already been put to good use, aside from hiding Sirius, a then convicted killer, as a meeting place for the Order of the Phoenix.

Over the summer of Harry's seventh year, the summer he turned a legal adult, he moved into number twelve Grimmauld Place and invited Remus Lupin to live with him. Remus was elated with the invitation and was able to keep an eye on Harry at the same time by doing so; acting as a mentor during dark times and final growing pains.

The house remained a meeting place for the Order and after school when Hermione, Harry and Ron graduated, things changed again. Both Hermione and Ron had been offered jobs with the ministry as Aurors, thanks to Arthur Weasley's word. He based it on his excellent judge of character, and not because they joined the secret society of the Order. Harry, on the other hand, had been offered a job of a lifetime with the Chudley Cannon's as their new seeker. Quiddich was something Harry was always good at and after seeing him win the house cup his seventh year at school, the team's scout couldn't resist taking on such an established and popular player. One year later, all of Harry's closest friends, including the Order members, came to see him at the World Cup.

Harry was usually away during a quidditch season and, after talking it over with Remus, invited Hermione to move into Grimmauld Place, as well. Being muggle born, it was better for Hermione to keep her new wizarding job separate from her muggle home life. It also served as brilliant company to their former Dark Arts professor.

Hermione emerged from the downstairs kitchen and was about to turn and go up the stairs, when she noticed a lantern in the window had not been extinguished. She glanced back up the stairs giving a slumbering Remus a quiet scolding that he had overlooked it when he was the last to go to bed. Hermione set down her tea on a nearby table and tiptoed to alleviate as much floor creaking as possible as she made her way to the lantern in the window. As she leaned over to blow out the candle, she happened to look outside the window to the sidewalk. Across the street, she noticed a jacketed hooded figure stumbling across the road, taking a moment to lean on a parked car. The figure looked as if it was either incredibly drunk or incredibly crippled, for it seemed to be quite a task just to walk. Hermione moved a few curls out of her sightline as she watched out the window to the intriguing scene.

The figure turned out to definitely be a man wearing a beaten up old jacket and he walked now, without the support of a parked car, and he appeared to be clutching his throat as he staggered. Hermione was not yet alarmed, not thinking that the man was coming to the house, because if he were a muggle, he wouldn't be able to see the house. She walked over to get her tea from the table and then returned to the window to watch the man and see which direction he was going in. If he had been a vagrant, at least in the morning when she went to work, she'd keep an eye out for him, in case he passed out in the nearby bushes.

She managed to get back to the window in time to see the man cross over the threshold and approach the door to Grimmauld Place. The man outside had apparently thrown all his weight onto the door, trying push his way through, and the sound of the hard thud caused Hermione to jump and drop her tea cup, contents and all. The cup made a horrible echoing sound through the house and she wondered if Remus had heard it. Her attention fell back to the door and she immediately grabbed her wand from her pocket and took retreating steps back, wand aimed at the door to the stranger that was forcing his way inside. She could hear his growling voice from the opposite side and his fingers scraped along the door, begging to be let in like a rabid wolf. She yelled for Remus to come, but her voice didn't seem to escape her. Instead, she watched as the door eventually gave, swinging open and causing a brisk breeze to rush inside the house. The rain had begun to fall harder and the man was now drenched.

The man forced himself over the doorway, swatting his hand in the air to close it behind him. _He was a wizard._ With a few more pants and growls, the man collapsed on the floor at Hermione's feet with a frightening thud. The house was still dark and after screaming for Remus again, this time finding her voice, she illuminated the rooms.

Hermione remained strong and cautious as she approached the fallen man, ready for some kind of trick that this might be an undiscovered ploy from the dark side. Her wand was aimed at the strangers head, carefully observing any movement aside from the faint breathing she could hear with strained ears. Her eyes scanned up his body, over the worn pants and shirt that looked like he hadn't changed in years, when they finally settled on the..._familiar face?_

She fell to her knees immediately, dropping her wand and catching her breath with the immediate discovery. His face was incredibly familiar, never forgotten, and it had been six years since she'd seen it. His dark hair was still as ebony as before, his face a bit gaunt, but not as much as expected and his jaw was perfectly chiseled from his esteemed Black blood.

A wash of emotion came over her, not believing that one of the biggest mysteries was about to be solved and here he lay, resting his head in Hermione's lap. She quickly placed both arms around him, cradling him in her arms, and placed a hand on the side of his cheek so that he might feel a warm person.

"Sirius! Sirius wake up! Please! Remus, come down here!" She cried, first to the heavy body in her arms then to the heavens, or second floor, above her.

Hermione felt her clothes beginning to soak through, as she held him in her arms and tried with all she could to peel his heavy cold jacket from his body. She was careful not to hurt him, but distressed that the coat was being so difficult. Finally, she managed to get half of it off and then ripped the rest of it with a good fierce tug, freeing him of his frigid restriction. She whispered to him again, placing a hand on his cheek and wiping strands of his hair away from his face. As she glanced down at the length of him, surveying if there was any blood stains that might indicate any wounds, she noticed that he was wearing the same clothes he had fallen through the Veil in.

Hermione yelled her roommate's name again, screaming it this time, looking around franticly for her wand to cast a spell that would walk his bed down the stairs itself if she had to.

Thankfully, she didn't have to, when she finally heard Remus stirring from the floor above her. A few moments later, he emerged to the top of the staircase, tying his robe around his waist. He yawned a bit, letting his eyes adjust to the brightened room and glanced down to his housemate who had awaken him from his heavy slumber. He saw her cradling a lifeless body in her arms and immediately grabbed the railing to help him rush down the stairs with urgency. It only took him a few seconds to see that it was Sirius and he fell to his knees next to her.

"Merlin! Hermione what happened? How did he…when…we have to…" He had a million things to ask, but he was just as shocked when he first saw him. His first instinct was to check and see if he's breathing.

"I did that already, he's breathing. Barely, but he's breathing!" Hermione sobbed, she clung to his body as tight as she could, hoping the human contact would some how bring him to. "We have to take him to a hospital!"

"No, we can't! He's dead, Hermione! We can't check him in, he doesn't have any I.D. and if we take him to a wizard's hospital, they'll quarantine him immediately and we'll never know. We have to…we have to take care of him on our own, for now." Remus said with a shaky tone.

As cool and composed as he normally is, even in the toughest situations, he always knew what to do. Though he wanted nothing else, but to find out where his friend had been, he needed to just get Sirius up the stairs to a bed.

Remus grabbed Hermione's wand that lay beside her instructed her to stand back. With a flick of the wrist, Sirius rose from Hermione's lap and ascended up the stairs as if he was a marionette. Hermione recalled seeing Sirius do the very same thing to Snape when he guided him through the pathways under the womping willow her third year.

Hermione rose from the floor, standing behind Remus and grasped his free hand for support, as she watched a motionless Sirius float before them. Right into his old room, Sirius was placed upon his old bed, stripped of his clothes, cleaned and dressed with nightclothes. Remus immediately conjured up some food, water and a bowl with a cloth at its side. Both witch and wizard pulled up a chair to be next to Sirius and they watched and waited to see if the refreshing feel of clean clothes and a soft bed would help him come around, at least for a few minutes to let him know he was home.

With the curiosity killing her on how Sirius came to be lying right in front of them, Hermione jumped at the chance to start nursing him. Remus checked all his vital signs with the basics that he knew and then went on to begin with a short spells to see if any bones were broken.

Hermione carefully dabbed a warm cloth over Sirius's forehead, watching him carefully. She saw his chest beginning to rise and fall with a more rhythmic pattern as Remus worked his magic throughout his body, relaxing him. His color was still quite pale, his face gaunt, but as Hermione pulled the cloth over his temples she allowed herself a small little smile to pass over her lips. There he lay before them, full of secrets and answers, and nothing to say, for the first time in a long time. She knew that he was missed by a lot of people that never got the chance to say good-bye, and they'll be happy he's returned - in whatever form.

"We have to owl Harry." She whispered, thinking of how her best friend would react, once he knew his only father figure had returned.

After Sirius had left, Harry was miserable. The only chance he had to having a warm homelife, with a guardian that wanted only the best for him, was snatched away prematurely. No time to grieve, everyone saying how sorry they were, disrespecting Sirius's memory and not once considering the actual hurt Harry had gone through. The closest thing to a father was only his for two years, without ever really enjoying it. Harry Potter had been cheated so many times in his life, and now, like a secret present, he had returned.

"And the Order." Remus added, thinking quietly how they were going to begin handling Sirius's return and a unit.

"The Ministry last. Maybe, we can hold out long enough until Harry comes home. Just in case..." Hermione began, her voice trailing off as she thought of what their wizarding government might do to someone who may have literally walked out of one of the biggest mysteries of all.

They both agreed that a few days at home, before exposing him to the Ministry couldn't hurt, as long as he remained well enough. After all, when Sirius woke up he might have all the answers and the ordeal might not be so much of a procedure as Hermione and Remus speculated.

"I can stay up for a few hours and look after him. I'm too jumpy to go to sleep now. Besides, you'll have day duty tomorrow since I have to go in to work for a bit." Hermione suggested.

Remus smiled first to her and then to his best friend, "All right, if you're sure." He waited for her approving nod and then glanced back to Sirius, "Don't scare her too much with your stories when you do wake up, old friend."

Remus stood from his seat and leaned over Hermione, placing a light kiss on her head to say goodnight. When he left, Hermione leaned over to wring out the cloth a bit more before reapplying it. She looked about the room for a form of music player and when she saw the turntable in the corner, she charmed it with her wand, so it would play softly in the background.

After a few more pats around Sirius's forehead, Hermione leaned back in her chair to take a few minutes to rest and just watch him. She tilted her head a little in thought as she relished the feeling that Sirius Black was back.

He was home. There he was, flesh and blood, lying before her in a state of mind she had no idea about. When he awoke, would he be the same man before he fell through the Veil, or had he been through a life altering state that he would no longer identify with that person? Would the charming and charismatic Sirius that bounced around the house, causing rows with Severus Snape when he felt fit, return?

Hermione sighed to herself, thinking that she wished he would awaken, anxious to know those answers. Not to mention the unsaid things she had lingering in her mind. She remembered that the two of them never really saw eye to eye on things, mainly because some of the things he'd say to Harry were that of something he might have said to James, had he been alive, and poor Harry was nothing more than a stand-in. But, deep down, she knew that Harry's best interests were always on Sirius's mind and she had no place to interfere. After all, Sirius was to play the role of "father" in Harry's eyes, something he'd never had, and for Sirius, it was a chance to redeem himself for being so irresponsible all those years growing up.

Sirius had led a very hard life, she thought to herself, never finding the love and the satisfaction he needed. It was probably the reasoning behind his marauding ways, no pun intended, as well as "cating" around, making women his conquests.

In his better days, he held a reputation of being a ladies man, breaking hearts along the way, never settling down with one long enough to make a difference. At least, that's what Remus had told her. Being deprived of love at a young age would do that to a person and no matter how hard you searched to fill that void in your life, you'd never be satisfied. It was a battle that he never won.

Now, Sirius was about to embark on a new chapter of his life. He was finally cleared of all charges. Though Voldemort was still amongst us, enough witnesses testified on Sirius's behalf that what happened twenty ago, what not Sirius's doing. Sadly, the verdict didn't come out until Sirius's death.

Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail, now had the bounty on his head, adding on another twelve years to his life sentence, making up for the time served by Sirius Black. Sirius's name had been cleared, his finances passed on in the name of Harry Potter, and a letter of pardoning from the Ministry themselves was presented. Being that Sirius was not amongst the living to accept this letter, Harry and Remus made sure that the letter was accepted, framed and mounted in the House of Black as a tribute to his legend. There it remained in full sight of everyone that entered the house, hanging in the parlor in the place of the old Black tapestry that Sirius's own mother had burned his name from.

The memory of Sirius, his escape, his death and now his return started to warm her insides, feeling a light tear fall down her cheek. Everything was going to change now, and her thoughts were on Harry, about the war, and about him.

"Please wake up, Sirius." She sighed, looking fondly at him as he slept. She spoke to him, as if he were listening, "We can't wait to tell you all that's happened since you've been gone. We've made so much progress in the war, and so far, not many deaths. You'd be so proud of Harry, Sirius. You and Lily and James wouldn't believe what he's doing now." She couldn't help but raise her own spirits as she thought warmly of her friend, but how quickly they fell again, once she rested her eyes back on Sirius. "I guess, a lot was left unsaid, especially with me. I want to apologize for being….for being a fifteen year old girl. There were things I might have said to you I had no right to." Her eyes fell to the floor again, "But I guess, looking back, it makes sense, now. It was me. I mean, some of it was you," she smiled to herself.

Hermione let her thoughts wander, thinking back at the moments in the house when she was younger. She remembered coming to Grimmauld Place with Ron, before Harry arrived. Having dinner with all the Order members, seeing a side of Remus that only his old friends knew, watching Sirius and Snape bickering constantly and Molly breaking them up, and seeing Harry's face when Sirius embraced him, as his godfather.

Hermione remembered one particular night at Grimmauld Place, before Harry arrived, when she and Ginny were sitting on the couch reading. Ginny was playing with her pigmy puff and Hermione was engrossed in a book that she needed to lay it on the coffee table to read, rather than on her lap, because her legs would fall asleep from it's weight. Sirius had been told that the Order had left to get Harry and his spirits were intensely raised. He raced down the stairs, two at a time, cursing his mother's portrait on the wall as he passed it.

Hermione glanced up from her withered pages, to see him looking over in the girls' direction as he passed, heading to the kitchen. His hair was neat with long silky locks, his face had a lightly groomed shadow, and his shoulders and body had filled again, after some of Molly's home cooked meals. She couldn't help but smile at him, with the way his dark eyes flicked over at her. She saw the corner of his mouth lift and out of habit, gave her that famous wink.

Upon seeing that, she smiled broadly as he disappeared behind the kitchen door. She immediately cleared her throat, composed herself and returned to her book, glancing over to see if Ginny had noticed if anything transpired.

Hermione's mind slowly came out of her haze, as she remembered that Sirius was still unconscious in the bed before her. Feeling like she had abandoned her duties, she quickly took the cloth, refreshed it and returned it to his face. Her eyes looked over his features, his nose, his perfect jaw, his tempting lips. It was no wonder why women didn't fall for him, the moment they saw him smile. He was so handsome, that it seemed like such a waste for him to have not been given the chance to be loved.

Hermione narrowed her brow as she studied him, realizing that he appeared to not have aged those six years gone. Still resembling a man just beginning his thirties, he was actually thirty-six when he fell into the Veil, when everyone in his generation was already forty-two.

She clucked her tongue, chiding herself for her puppy-dog crush thoughts, and quietly scolded him that he better wake up soon, because at this rate, she was going to be older than he was.

* * *

"Hermione? Hermione, wake up." She heard the kind male voice whisper.

A light hand had been placed on her shoulder and was gently shaking her awake. The dream she was having that Sirius had returned seemed to be just on the tip of her brain and she….

"Remus?" She managed to get out, as she slowly opened her eyes right into the sunshine that was pouring into the bedroom.

"Morning, love," he cooed.

Hermione smiled into those friendly eyes, prepared to tell him all about the dream she had about the stranger walking into their house, "Sirius! He is here!" She allowed her eyes to focus and realized that she had fallen asleep in the chair next to his bedside.

"Did he wake up at all? Did he say anything, when you were awake?" He ask curiously, checking over his friend, eager to take his shift of watching over him.

She started to rise from the chair, her joints protesting and angry that she had confined herself in that wooden chair all night long. She managed to stand upright, leaning over to place a kiss on Remus's cheek and rested her eyes on the slumbering man in the bed, "No, he never woke up when I was awake. I'm sure he would have said something."

Remus nodded, agreeing that Sirius would be anything but quiet, if he awoke in his old bedroom, "You're right, there. You still have a couple of hours before you need to go to work, so why don't you go and lie down a bit."

"Yes, good idea." She agreed, saying it loud enough so that her joints would hear her and allow her to move with less pain. When she reached the door, she turned to see Remus sitting down in the chair, checking all of Sirius's vitals. "Remus?"

"Yes?"

"Would you please tell me if he wakes up today? Send me an owl?" She requested politely with a yawn.

"I will, Hermione. Now, go take a nap."

She gave him a nod and turned to make her way to her own soft and comfy bed to get a few minutes of horizontal sleep.

At the Ministry, she immediately tried to find Ron all, but discovered to no surprise, that he was running late. A normal occurrence, she proceeded to each individual department, seeking out fellow Order members to tell them about the emergency meeting.

"Tonks, morning." Hermione chimed, as she watched Tonks typing away, or rather dictating to the typewriter, her latest report on Draco Malfoy and his mother.

"Morning, Hermione." She smiled, giving a quick run through her hair to change it to black with red stripes. It was one of those days today that she was completely unsatisfied with her hair. She went through that every twenty-eight days.

"Tonks, please do try and come 'round to see that vicious boyfriend of yours. He's really starting to get on my nerves. Besides, it's his turn to cook tonight." She dropped the code to Tonks, and left it with a wink. "Probably around seven, or so."

"Fabulous, I'll wear the purple hair tonight; he always loves it when I add more color to the evening." She answered with a nod. "Is it all right if I bring a friend along for you to meet?" Tonks prodded if she should help spread the word about the immediate Order meeting, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure, why not." She threw back, making her way around the department. She rounded on a very militant ordered desk that used to be covered with pictures of wanted pictures of Sirius all over it, but now it just had one, with a copy of Sirius's death certificate next to it, "Shacklebot?"

"Not now, Granger. I'm doing just fine without a rookie coming around and pointing out punctuation discrepancies!" The large black man barked at her, slowly standing up menacingly from his desk a good two feet over her.

"Shacklebot, stop being such a prat! It pains me to be Remus's messenger that he's invited you to dinner. I, on the other hand, wish he'd reconsider but he's set on you and I making things friendly. So, why don't you do him a favor and pacify him. I'll try if you try. Eight o'clock." She baited him, knowing full well that it was all code and they rather liked each other a lot. Kingsley made it so much fun to argue with him.

"If I'm there at seven, would it piss you off?" He shouted down the walkway as she left him in a huff, but he was just confirming the time.

"Bugger off!" She confirmed, walking away and waving a hand.

She smiled to herself feeling pretty good about that one. The more others thought that she and Kingsley had a sincere hatred for one another; the more it kept the Order a secret society. She walked with confident steps through the department, weaving herself around cubicles and hallways, leaving an aura about her that meant business.

Hermione was highly respected in the Ministry's eyes, and she tended to be behind many conspiracies about Voldemort. As she walked to her cubical, wearing her khaki Capri's and red cardigan sweater, her boots clicked on the floor below her announcing her arrival. Her long brown curls were pulled off her face, giving no indication that she had been up all night watching and weeping over someone that was presumed dead.

The Order members were going to be beside themselves and for the moment, she couldn't keep herself from bursting with excitement, she had to sit down. She made it to her desk by the window that overlooked New York City's skyline. She loved sitting there, because everyday they'd change the view to a different major city of the world. Yesterday, it had been the beaches of Key West, Florida.

The first thing she needed to do was to send owls informing "dinner" being served that evening. This short of notice informed them that the meeting was, indeed, urgent and she started to compile the letters. Finally taking out the last piece of parchment, she paused for a moment as she took a little extra time with the one addressed to Severus Snape.


	2. The Master and his Mistress

_A note from Serade Black: It's taken me quite a bit to redo this chapter, but you'll see some vast grammatical changes and improvements, so please take the time to read it again to follow the new story. _

_Trust me, this is going to be a Sirius/Hermione fic. I was just layin down a little bit of back story for your enjoyment. This chapter is only rated PG and reads the same on my LJ. For the link to my LJ, see my biography page here._

**CH. 2 - The Master and his Mistress**

Much to everyone's surprise, she and Severus had a short-lived romance. About a year ago, the two were sitting down in the library of Hogwarts to discuss a potion that would alleviate cuts and abrasions caused by a particular hexing spell that the Death Eaters found pride in using, having been a relatively new spell devised by Lord Voldemort himself.

The two had been up nearly three extra hours after curfew and the students had long since been gone. Snape had opened up the restricted section of the library and the two poured themselves into countless books that would help them research a new potion to protect them in battle. It had been the third tiring day that the two had been at it, each night meeting up in the library, after their jobs had been finished for the day.

Their differences had been put away and ever since graduation, Snape had given the trio a bit more respect than usual, having proved themselves worthy of it. All three of the former students had passed his class, been willing to take chances, and became new Order members. To be in the Order, you had to be able to throw your differences away or the team would easily be taken down. That was the advantage the Order had over the Death Eaters...unity.

Though it appeared that Snape and Sirius would have killed each other if people weren't around, the truth was that they knew they were on the same side. Granted, they both were hard on each other growing up, the two of them had to realize, once pointed out by several other members, that it was all in the past and neither of them were going to make progress if they didn't step forward. Both of them would have ended up dead, if they didn't put it away and save it till the war was over. By then, the members had hoped that they'd see the light and get over it. But, such was not the case. The two grown men still threw out their wands at each other, crude words were said at the other's expense and if one lay dead, the other would possibly be to blame. It never came to that. Instead, hurtful things were said before going to the Ministry the night Sirius died and though Snape felt he had it coming to him, guilt took over and he realized it was an ill thought not deserved. Snape agreed, in private to Hermione, that Sirius had died a loyal death.

Snape was just opening up another book, glancing at the clock when it chimed one-thirty and a daring idea came to mind. He looked over at the pretty brunette who had her nose in a book so deep he was sure her eyesight was failing. He admired her thirst for knowledge, as well as her insatiable hunger for the unexplained.

It was a bit out of character for him to think this of a student, but she had been the only one in a long time that had, deplorably to say, impressed him. She had deemed herself worthy of taking the most advanced classes, passed with flying O's, landed a job with the Ministry and found a satisfying life dealing with the Dark Arts. He knew she would never give into the easy side, as he had when he joined the Death Eaters. Snape had yearned for someplace he could fit in and from that, he thrived on revenge with a weak group of followers to a pathetic man that found nothing but prosperity in power. What kind of life was that?

Instead, he renounced that weak and feeble way of thinking. His poor judgment in youth had condemned him to a life of protecting his mistake. Now as he looked into the eyes of a young Harry Potter, a mirror image of James, the one he loathed, he saw the spark of Lily Evans. He saw the spark of the kindest individual he'd ever known. The only one that had treated him with the respect and sweetness that anyone had ever given him. After being a part of the sad group of followers that killed the only being that mattered to him, he broke away. He found a way to play both sides, but in the good's favor – he turned spy and vowed to remain one until the end of the war. That was his redemption and promise to Dumbledore. He had already let down one that mattered, he wasn't about to let another lose faith in him.

Snape looked over the table, seeing a bit of Lily Evans in Hermione. She was good at spells, just as Lily was and she held no prejudice in her heart that he knew of. She may have been one of those innocent creatures that harbored dark feelings, but she never once faltered to allow anyone see that side of her. She'd had her share of celebrity boyfriends, possibly lovers, and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd be any match for her at all. After all, he was her former teacher. Then again, he was a teacher. What better match for her than with someone that taught knowledge for a living, someone that may or may not have all the answers, and someone that was just as well read as she. Well, maybe it was she that was almost as well read as he. Someone older and not so young and inexperienced, someone…like him. He'd never know, but why not try?

Snape slightly cleared his throat to get her attention and began, "We've been at this for quite a long time-"

"I know, but I think I'm onto something." She quickly answered, almost afraid that he was going to give up for the night.

"Wonderful," he said in his low, unimpressed voice, "Why don't we take a few minutes for a break."

Her eyes lifted from her book, tilting her head and stretching a kink out of her neck. Perhaps, that would be a good idea. For the last three days the two had gone straight through, after work, for nearly four hours every night without at break. Taking a few minutes to collect themselves was a good suggestion.

"You know, I think that wouldn't be such a bad idea."

Snape's eyes fell to the scattered papers on the desk, practically whispering. "Perhaps you'd be interested in joining me for a drink?"

Hermione's eyes lifted from her notes to him, intrigued to see this particular social side of him. He'd never stay for dinner with the Order at the house, and he almost always passed up on drink offers, unless it was a special occasion. To take him up on his offer for a drink was sure to be good conversation with Remus, after she woke him up from passing out from shock.

Her eyes were attracted to the way he flicked his quill in his hand, indicating a nervous gesture. Her eyes rose back up to his and softly answered, "I could consider that."

A slight smirk, just shy of a grimace, but a seductive smirk to say the least passed his lips. Hermione thought she'd seen that smirk before, but recognized it as something else in a different context. She was older now, wiser and not a child. Thankfully, her former professor saw that too, and had decided to talk with her as if she was an adult. This was definitely an improvement.

"I have some forty year old brandy in my study, should you care to join me. Or, I can accio it here." He suggested in his low, downy voice.

She averted her eyes as she thought over which location would be better. She concluded that any place where these particular books were not would be a better one. "Your study would be fine."

She followed Snape out of the library, his wand's tip illuminated and leading them through the dark corridors of the castle. Memories flooded Hermione as she could almost picture her younger self dodging Filch through the same hallways. The schemes she and her best friends would think up and she never forgot the three headed dog, Fluffy. Smiling to herself, she sometimes wished those simpler, more innocent times were about them, but instead they'd all gone and moved on.

Hermione and Snape made small talk as they walked, the sound of their robes billowing around them. As they rounded a corner, Snape caught a pair of fifth years snogging in a hidden alcove and immediately went into professor mode. Garnishing fifty house points from each student, he instructed them to return to their dormitories and that they'd have to answer to the headmistress about public displays of affection after school hours. The two frightened students obeyed the potions professor, clearly displaying an obvious shade of guilt on their faces that of all people to catch them, they didn't want it to be him. For a moment, the girl from Ravenclaw glanced over to Hermione as if wondering who she was and why she was out late with the potions professor. Hermione just flashed a kind smile, as if telling her that things would be fine and to just do as he said.

Once the two students were on their way and out of sight, Hermione couldn't help but murmur, "Fifty points each? That's a bit harsh for students just snogging in the hallways, wouldn't you say?"

Snape looked over at her surprised that she had challenged his judgment with being a Head of House, "No, I think it's a fair punishment for what they were doing, Miss Granger."

"But, fifty points from each house? It's still the beginning of term and I hardly think that either house even has enough to spare that many." She tried to convince him as they reached the stairs to the dungeons.

"They were out way past curfew," he began to defend, opening the door to his study to allow her in first. "They were displaying inappropriate behavior on school grounds," he seemed to be slowing his words, as if slightly agreeing with her. Perhaps he was a little bit hard on them, but still, he was not about to bow down, not yet anyway. A good disagreement on this matter would surely help awaken their minds before going back to those stacks of books. He made his way over to a tall dark cabinet and opened up the glass doors. He took out an elaborate bottle with a brown liquid and retrieved two glasses from its neighboring shelf. "I also have wine if you prefer."

"Wine, for me, please."

He continued to talk as he poured, "One was a Prefect and should know better." He turned and handed her the glass, meeting a smirk. "I know full well that the girl, has a reputation."

She took the glass and tilted her head a bit in interest, "Really? And how would you know that this girl has a reputation?" She pushed.

He took a sip from his glass and set it down on a nearby table. He began unfastening his robes from the collar down to make himself more comfortable, wearing a black knees length coat and slacks, with the slight flash of a pressed white collar and cuffs.

"I've heard how some of the young men talk and I assure you that the young man she was with tonight, was not the same young man she walked with holding hands, tonight at dinner." He gestured to the sitting couch.

He waited for Hermione to sit down first, before retrieving his drink to join her. Nodding her appreciation for his manners, she carefully watched him and the way he even made sitting down on the couch an arrogant gesture. Without even a wrinkle in his robes, she watched how his delicate hands gripped the base of his glass and lift it to his lips like royalty.

She had to admit that now being a grown woman seeing him in this social light, it was a slight turn on to see a man in such a powerful position remain cool and confident in time of debate. But, something told her that he may have been able to back down after a bit more convincing on her part. She bit the corners of her mouth in thought and decided to test him further.

"But really, they're only fifteen." She baited, giving him a cool, sweet smile. "I'm sure you remember being fifteen."

He remained silent for a few minutes and did infact remember being fifteen. It was horrible, he tried to erase it, and it was mostly due to her little friend's father. He and his circle of maraudering friends had made his life a hell. But, now was not the time to revisit those memories, as he would not speak ill of the dead in front of her.

"Precisely. They're fifteen and can easily stray in the wrong direction if not intervened." He remained firm, keeping his eyes straight ahead of him, careful not to look over at her. He knew that by just glancing over to and seeing the way she sat so sweetly on the other end of his couch would make him think back on his word.

"Well, perhaps being out past curfew was wrong, and one of them being a Prefect doesn't help the situation, but one hundred points are a lot taken at once." She mulled over.

Snape pursed his lips, thinking maybe that she was right on that last part. His inner willpower broke down and he glanced over to see her looking right into his eyes. Her legs were half tucked under her body, her arms down by her sides as her hands caressed the glass that held her wine. Her eyelashes flicked down once or twice on him, as if she was playing at him just enough to convince him to give in. Clever witch.

He wouldn't admit that she had gotten to him, but merely that she had assisted him in seeing that it was only the beginning of term. "Perhaps that was a hasty number, at this stage of the month. In the morning, I'll change it to fifty total, twenty-five from each of them."

A small smile whispered over her lips, pleased that she was able to help the students. Most interesting was the way she was able to convince Snape to see it her way. She lifted the glass to her lips, pleased with her interrogation.

As she was occupied, he chanced a daringly low glance down the front of her robes. He noticed the way the top buttons had opened up to reveal a low cut red shirt underneath. Quickly ashamed, he returned his gaze steadfast ahead of him, trying to dissuade his thoughts elsewhere. Surely she'd never consider him for a moment, had he made any insinuation of interest.

"I'd like to thank you for joining me for a drink." He broke the awkward silence that he'd created for himself.

"No, thank you for offering a break. I'd have to say that my mind is a bit mush right now, so this was a refreshing change. Different being here with you, but a refreshing change nonetheless." She sweetly added, glancing back at him.

"May I make one request," his voice dipped low for a moment, trying to be completely sincere.

She didn't see anything wrong with it and agreed.

"Do you think you could call me, Severus," he paused, "Rather than professor? It's been four years and I think we can move on past that."

"Only if you stop calling me Miss Granger, will I agree to that." she was quick to quip.

She had stunned him for only a second at her request. It did have to work both ways, he assumed. His eyes flicked down to her lips for his moment of weakness and replied, "Deal."

The two kept their eyes on eachother for a few moments longer, until Snape broke away and cleared his throat. He felt that his eyes may have dipped lower than her lips at one time and it was best to advise her of her teasing manner.

"You might want to button your robe a bit more. I feel that it's a bit inappropriate at this time." He commented, adjusting himself on the couch and crossing his legs for lack of business.

Hermione looked down to see that the top three buttons of her robe had indeed come undone and the tight red revealing shirt was easily seen beneath it. She set her glass down on the table next to her and was about to button it back up, when she paused her fingers in place.

"What if I didn't?" Her curiosity asked.

You could see his entire frame tense and he uncrossed his legs deciding how to answer her question. Surely, she wasn't testing him. Already she had put him in a position he didn't feel was appropriate to answer honestly. But, there she sat, her eyes on him and waiting, her fingers poised over her buttons to go either way.

He took a deep breath; carefully selecting his words, "Because, I'm not sure if what I'd do," he glanced up to her under hooded eyes, "would be appropriate."

Hermione's fingers fell from her buttons, leaving her robe in their revealing state. Carefully, but cautiously she slowly moved a few inches closer to him, "What would you do?"

He noticed as she moved closer that she was closing the small gap between them. She was dangerously right next to him; legs still childishly curled under her, radiating an innocent glow. Was she baiting him? Male instincts got the better of him and the free hand that was casually draped around the back of the couch lifted up to cup her cheek. He watched her eye lids fall heavy and she tilted her face into the gentle caress of his palm. He nearly shivered with the way she reacted and as something pulled within him, he strongly felt the desire to kiss her.

He slowly leaned in; her eyes still closed, and gently brushed her lips with his, waiting for her to withdraw. She didn't, she kept still. She didn't even open her eyes and waited patiently for him to do it again.

He sighed and leaned in to kiss her once again, this time with more force. It had been quite awhile since he'd found a woman worthy of his affections and never thought that this one would ever look his way. She hadn't enough wine in her yet, to allow her mind to be cloudy of judgment and kissed him freely with no restrictions.

As Hermione preoccupied herself with him, the thoughts going through her mind were not those of her just kissing a former professor, but those of her kissing a man that had so much pent up passion she never would have guessed he had in him. He was a wonderful kisser and he worshiped her lips like they belonged to some kind of deity. He loved the way she nibbled on his lips, quietly begging for more, exploring each other for the first time.

She felt him lean back to place his glass on the side table in order give both his hands her attention. As he was pushed back against the couch, she took the liberty of pressing against him to push herself on top of him. Her hands smoothed out his coat, feeling the thick fabric between her fingers and rested on his shoulders. His hands left her face and had started to explore her body with fierce enthusiasm. Hermione had to calm his roaming hands to slow him down a few times, but for the most part he was a complete gentleman with her. Something she definitely needed. He was someone older, wiser and understood what she was going through. He was a good match to her.

For the next five months, the sex was wonderful. He proved to be a loyal and compassionate lover and teacher, and declared his feelings for her at the right time in their relationship. All the members of the Order knew, a bit hesitant at first, but kept it a secret to the Ministry as well as to anyone at Hogwarts who wasn't a member of the secret society. Hermione felt herself torn between falling in love and choosing what was right to do. She chose the right path and was afraid that by pursuing her relationship with Snape would deem a terrible outcome. Not because both Harry and Ron thought her to be completely mental for getting into a relationship with their potions professor, but because it was starting to get risky. Snape had remained a spy for the Order when going into the Death Eaters meetings and had come out rather shaky and bothered whenever they'd talk about personal loved ones, the Order or about anyone specific. Snape was starting to see what Hermione was talking about and as much as it tore him to believe it, he had hoped for another way.

"There is no other way, Severus. Too many people will find out and it will ruin the entire operation. It's getting dangerous and I'm afraid," she began to let a few tears fall down her reddened cheeks, "I'm afraid of what they'll do to you if they find out the truth. What if they did something to me? Could you just sit there and let them? No, you wouldn't. At least I don't think you would."

Snape paced in his study back and forth, listening to her break his heart and give him a taste of reality. As much as he hated the woman for doing what she was, he had to remember that she wasn't doing this to hurt him, but to protect both of them. He paced at an accelerated rate, hoping that an answer would come to him, but his mind remained a blank. He huffed across the room, tearing off his black robe and tossing it aside on the couch. He loosened the cuffs and collars of his white shirt doing whatever he could to make himself more comfortable, but it wasn't working.

"There's got to be something, Hermione. I…I don't think we're thinking this out." He said half yelling and half just emotionally upset.

"I did, Severus. This is thinking it out. Do you know what I heard today?" She begged, now following close behind him, doing anything to get him to look her in the eyes again. "I heard that the Death Eaters are performing raids on their own homes, just to check and make sure that the loyalties are where they say they are."

He stopped and swung around to face her. He hadn't heard this piece of evidence at any of their last meetings, "No."

She began to sob, trying to keep herself as composed as possible as she explained it, "Yes. They're going through each other's homes, looking for clues to anything that might be anti-Voldemort. What if they raided you when I was with you? What if they raided you while I was there alone? What would they do to me? Anything they fucking wanted, that's what! They wouldn't know that you loved me promising to protect me through all of this. None of that matters to them! They'd take me, probably rape me and then kill me. Do you want to live with that? I certainly can't. They'd find out that you were a spy and then they'd probably kill you, too."

"Don't say that!" He pleaded, trying to remain strong for both of them. He reached out for her and pulled her close, wanting to protect her with every fiber of him. He'd waited this long to find someone that he saw as an equal and now, because of his mission, he'd have to give it all up to protect them.

A knock on the door startled Hermione and he felt her jolt in his arms upon the disrupting sound. He gave her one last squeeze and went to answer the door to send them away. He buttoned the top two buttons on his starched white shirt and took a few seconds to compose himself. As if changing character completely, he straightened up and opened the door, pretending that nothing was out of the usual.

"Professor Snape?"

Hermione heard a young female voice ask and peered around him. She saw the same Ravenclaw girl from that night long ago, looking fearful and intimidated. Glancing right past the potions professor, the girl caught a glimpse of Hermione standing in the center of the room. As if women's communication was telepathic, the young girl concluded that Hermione had been crying for quite sometime and her heart fell for her. Upon hearing the male throat clear, reminding her of her business, her eyes returned to Snape.

The Ravenclaw swallowed dramatically and prepared to challenge the professor, since she had just walked into what was obviously a "situation". Like steel, the girl broke her eye contact with her professor and risked another glance back towards Hermione and gave her a reassuring smile, like she had before when she was caught in the corridor awaiting punishment, and mentally nodded that things would be all right.

With that, the girl looked back to Snape, who stood like a human wall before her in dark shadows and anger in his aura, "Sorry to bother you, professor. I just wanted to hand in my essay from yesterday. I was sick today and I'm sorry I missed your class."

Snape took the essay from her and sent her away. Eager to return to his conversation, he closed the door with a heavy shove and tossed the essay on a nearby table. Changing once again, he returned his attentions and affections back towards Hermione. This time, when he went to console her, she put her hands up to keep him at bay.

"No, please don't. It's inevitable, Severus. As long as this war is on and you're still an acting spy, we can't continue. It really is best for us." She softly said, tearing herself up inside as she spoke.

He felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach, letting the terrible heavy feeling wear him down. Severus Snape never thought he'd ever see a woman this passionate for him break them apart for the right of good. Her hair had fallen from it's messy bun pulled back with bobby pins, letting wisps of hair frame her face romantically. Tears had started to stream constantly down her cheeks, causing her make-up to smear just slightly into thin dark trails. Her shoulders slumped like she had just given up, and she put herself into a complete state that it pained him to see her go on. He hated to admit it to her, but knew everything she was saying was the truth.

Finally, he slowly nodded his head with uncertain submission, "You're right, Hermione. Everything you've said has been right. I can't protect you when I'm fighting for both sides."

She hiccupped a breath to calm herself and lifted her heavy eyes to his, searching for his understanding. She allowed him to take a few steps closer and he reached a hand up to wipe the streaming mascara from her face. Like a fallen angel, she smirked slightly as he admired how pretty she was when she was so passionate about what she believed in. Knowing that this might be the end of them, he tried to push past the pain of knowing she might move on, even after the war.

"I think what I'm most afraid of is," He took a beat, looking away from her for a moment to regain his thoughts. His throat was tight and he cleared it once again to continue, "is that you're going to meet someone else and after the war ends…you won't be there."

Her eyes fell to the ground between them out of guilt and she nodded, "You could be right. I can't promise, because I don't know what's going to happen."

She didn't mean to force the dagger in deeper, nor did she mean to twist the hilt of the weapon as it pierced his heart. She was his undoing and now she was just confirming that she could not control fate.

Every Order gathering or casual meeting after that was different. With time, the two began to get a little more comfortable with the other being around and were able to be friendly, rather than affectionate, and remain professional without letting their past get in the way.

However, for Snape, it was still like he had to sit back and watch her. She was the one that got away, and not by any of his wrong doing. For all the years before him, he always did what was right and was usually misunderstood for it. He watched her from afar, knowing that for as long as they were involved in the front lines of the war, then they wouldn't be able to be together. She remained that fixed love in his heart that forced him to curl his lip in disgust whenever he'd notice another man taking interest in her, and that, alone, was to be his own prison.

Nowadays, whenever Hermione sent an owl to him, she always took extra special care in writing him. She knew that their break apart was a wise one, but she was sure that he still wasn't quite over it. She had since moved on, going out for a butterbeer here and there, but none kept her interests enough the way Snape did.

"Morning Hermione," a grumbled voice greeted, donut crumbs escaping his lips as he uttered the sound.

She lifted her brown eyes onto one Ron Weasley who had finally decided to grace the office with his presence, "Oh my god, Ron, I have to talk to you! Let me just finish this owl real quick." She said and quickly returned to her note, carefully finishing her last sentence.

"Dear Sweetest Severus," he started, mocking what her letter actually said, as he leaned over her shoulder to spy. "How I long for the day that our naked bodies can be pressed together-"

"Sod off, Ron!" She laughed, trying to concentrate on her letter and not disrupt her concentration.

"God, I can't believe you went out with that git! Not to mention the copious amounts of sex you had with him, as well!" Ron teased, falling into the vacant seat across from her cubicle.

He gave himself a dramatic shiver as he described the scene with intricate detail. He loved teasing her about her relationship with Snape, as it was one of his favorite pastimes. Hearing the way her voice would sigh over him being completely uncouth brought him sheer joy to know that it irritated her to no end.

"Ron!" She hushed him, carefully dipping her quill into the ink.

"I bet you had loads of sex in his classroom. You know, all those dungeons and such can create quite a romantic atmosphere. The rusty chains, the dripping pipes, the rat corpses…"

She wrote on, trying to ignore him, "We never had sex in the dungeons. Only in his study…"

"That's good." He threw his feet up on his desk and forced a third donut into his mouth, wiping the crumbs off his sweater.

She knew when Ron was ready for her comeback and she immediately answered in a calm nonchalant voice, "and the library."

Ron nearly choked, "The library!"

"And the astronomy towers, and the dark forest, oh, by the quidditch pitch…"

"Hermione, you're going to make me vomit,"

She finished her owl and spun around in her chair to face him. She leaned in close with a smirk over her pink lips as she watched the way his face cringed with mental images she gave him, "Perhaps, you could have learned a few lessons from him. He taught me, quite a bit."

With a wink, she turned back around and folded the paper into an envelope. Ron just stared, shaking his head of the dangerous sickening thoughts compiled of book from the Restricted Section and racing brooms.

Hermione stood from her cubicle, looking about to see if there were any owls free for a prompt delivery. She managed to see one just hovering around Kingsley's cubicle and whistled to get it's attention. The owl swooped down, giving a few receptive hoots. It stuck its leg out to attach the letter and received it's instructions where after a few more hoots and an owl treat, the bird was off to Hogwarts.

"So, what was it that you had to tell me before you royally grossed me out?" Ron asked, starting to sift through his papers, pretending like he was doing work for the morning.

"Come here!" she snipped and grabbed his arm to drag him out of earshot.

She cornered him in a far corner of the department floor. Very quietly, Hermione explained the events of the night before in great detail.

"Bloody Hell!" Ron yelled, clutching his chest in absolute disbelief. A few co-workers passed them in the corridor and started to generate attention. Thinking quickly to the on-lookers, Ron explained, "Hermione just shagged my brother, nothing big."

Stunned that that was the most intelligent answer her long time friend could come up with, Hermione hit him in the chest and quickly explained to whoever heard his excuse, that it wasn't true. But, the onlookers had already passed them by, tarnishing her reputation in those last two minutes.

"So, what are you doing here? You should go home and be with Remus! We need all the details we can get."

"I was up all night with him, hoping he'd get up so we could talk to him, but he was just out. I'm sure that wherever he's come from, has drained him since he barely moved all night. Remus is going to owl me, should he wake up."

"So, I take it there's dinner tonight." Winking code so obviously, a blind person would have been able to tell that wasn't the truth.

She rolled her eyes at his pathetic hint, "Yes, tonight at seven."


	3. The Awakening

_A note from Serade Black: The holidays are amongst us and I hope that you take the time to get away to this fantasy world I'm adding to. This chapter has been posted months and months ago, but it's been reworked, revamped and revitalized. I promise you, you'll get to the "good" parts. This is a Sirius/Hermione fic, afterall ;)_

Chapter 3 – The Awakening

As if someone had died, the narrow hallway on the second floor outside of Sirius's bedroom was filled with witches and wizards paying their respects. However, this was quite the opposite where someone had returned from the dead, the Order members weren't quite sure how to take it.

Into the wee hours of the night, the house finally cleared out after the meeting from several discussions about when and where Sirius actually was. Questions arose as they surrounded his bed watching him lay asleep in the center, wondering how he'd come back, where he'd been and why he hadn't aged a day since the day he fell through the Veil.

After all had been thought out and theorized, the million dollar question of the evening was: where was his godson, Harry?

Harry must have been pretty far away from Grimmauld Place at a match to have not responded yet. Granted, the owl did just go out, but he'd never taken this long before without even a quick reply. They knew that as soon as he got wind of any rumors, he'd be back before you could say "floo power".

After a few theories were stamped out, suggestions made and one or two snide remarks, the Order concluded that they'd take Sirius to the Ministry, after he'd woken up, to advise them of his unrealistic return. Until that time that he was up walking and talking again, the secret of Sirius would be kept amongst Order members.

As the house settled around them, Remus retired to bed for the evening and Hermione tucked under a soft comforter on a nearby chair. The heavy old clock in the living room downstairs struck three in the morning. Without trying to stifle a yawn, Hermione laid her book down the night table and stretched out her arms and legs like a big lethargic cat. All the plans at the Order meeting had worn her down her defense and she quickly found herself drifting off into a light slumber and needed to wake herself up for her sitting duty.

She reached to retrieve the cloth that draped over Sirius's forehead and got up to rinse it out and freshen it up with cool water. As she replaced the cloth, she tilted her chin to better view his content expression on his face. It hadn't changed much, since he'd barely moved, but she could tell he must have shifted lightly in his sleep. She'd hoped that his internal clock would awaken him soon, since he hadn't eaten in nearly twenty-four hours since his return.

Like a napping child, he lay so relaxed and serene; his chest slowly rising and falling under the blankets that covered him and she knew that wherever he'd been, it had physically and mentally exhausted him. Like a child waiting eagerly on Christmas Eve, she so selfishly wanted to wake him, begging him for answers as he lay in his mysterious state. But, without even a second thought, she left him be, knowing that he rested as hard as he was because he definitely needed it. Her sake of curiosity was just an inconsiderate excuse to find out answers and she quickly shut off the little voice in the back of her head.

As Hermione adjusted the cloth over his head, she thought for a moment that his brow furrowed reacting to her touch. She closed her eyes tightly, and quickly reopened them to see that he was still not moving. Shaking her head at herself, she cursed her imagination that due to the lack of sleep, her eyes were playing tricks on her. She settled back into the comforts and sanctuary of the chair and picked up her book to resume reading before she nodded off again.

The silence of the settling house was broken as a raspy voice whispered, "Are you an angel?"

A light gasp escaped Hermione's throat as she immediately looked up to see Sirius moving his hand to the cool cloth on his forehead.

_He was awake!_

Feeling suddenly alert like she'd just slept for three days straight, she hopped out of her chair and sat on the edge of the bed to be closer to him. "What did you say?"

He squeezed his eyes tightly, afraid to open them for fear that even the low light would burn them, "I asked if you were an angel." His voice was so very weak and dry that it sounded like he hadn't hydrated his throat in about six years.

Fearful that he had lost his mind, and that they were going to have to reteach him everything all over again; she could barely speak. "No, no, I'm not an angel. It's me, Sirius. It's Hermione! Hermione Granger!"

_He was home._

Sirius's lips moved slowly into a small grin, mentally rewarding himself that he had made it back and hadn't lost his memory, "I only know one Hermione. You don't have to use your last name, love." His voice was still very raspy, but he was coherent.

"Oh Gods, Sirius, you're back!" She started to choke back some emotion and threw herself over him to hug his warm body.

She felt him shift underneath her, assuring her that he was there in flesh and bone. Like a dam breaking down from strong waters, she couldn't help but start to sob tears of joy that he had returned. He was a mystery. A survivor. A miracle.

"Hermione, don't cry, love. I'm not worth crying over." He managed to say, with a little more strength in his voice and placed a weak hand over her arm to console the weeping girl.

She sobbed a small laugh and lifted her head up. Her face was covered with a mop of brown tendrils and she gave a quick flip to clear her view. Seeing his face looking down at hers with a living and breathing soul, she couldn't help but take advantage of the small space between them and kiss him on his cheek.

"You have no idea, Sirius. Everyone is so excited you're back. Where have you – don't answer that, yet! I have to get Remus."

"My godson, where is he?" Sirius asked with a light bit of concern. He tried to sit up in bed, scanning the room for Harry as if he expected him to be there waiting as well.

Hermione pushed herself off of him and wiped the tears from her face, "He's the only one that doesn't know. He's a professional quidditch player, now! He's off on tour, but he's already been sent an owl to come right home. I have to go get Remus, I'll be right back."

Once he was fetched, Remus immediately took Hermione's chair forgetting all manners as he eagerly greeted his old friend. Sirius could barely show emotion with his lack of strength, but Hermione knew that he was very grateful to be back from wherever he was. With the way he responded to Remus joining them, to the way he drank from the glass of water greedily to his immediate gratification that there were at least crackers nearby, Sirius was glad to be home.

Sirius had managed to sit up slowly and lean against the head board. He'd already reached over for the plate of crackers and cheese and was slowly lifting his hands to his mouth to feed himself. He moved at a snail's pace, as if his entire body was fighting gravity. Hermione sat on the edge of the bed, eager to listen to his every word. She reached over and picked up Remus's hand and held it tight.

Sirius appeared to be very weak and groggy, but he managed to keep his wits about him when he teased Hermione for holding onto Remus's hand. Sirius took a bite out of a roll and with his other hand, gestured to the hand holding, "What's this? Are you two together now? Shagging in my house, even?"

Remus's face brightened with a smile, pleased that no matter how weak his friend seemed to be, the crude old Sirius that he knew still managed to creep out in any situation. He chuckled and shook his head, "No, no. We live here together now, but we're not together. I'm actually with your cousin, Tonks."

"Nymphadora! All right, Moony. And what about you? Are you with my godson or Ron, by now?" he asked with his mouth full and pointing to Hermione.

"No," she smiled.

"Okay, so what else have I missed?" Sirius asked, stuffing his mouth and listening to the others talk as if getting into a really good fairytale. He wiggled his feet, pretending to be a kid and waited for the two to fill him in on what he's missed.

"Now, it's your turn, Sirius. Where the hell have you been these last six years? How did you get back and where did you end up?" Remus asked, biting his tongue until now, to start finding out answers to his whereabouts.

Sirius started to think about where to start, his eyes falling to the blankets that kept him warm. All of it seemed a blur, by this point, but after running his hand through his hair for the fourth time, he finally began his story, "I ended up back at the Ministry."

"At the Ministry? Didn't anyone see you? Talk to you, hell, apprehend you?" Hermione fussed, shaking her head in concern.

Remus put a hand over hers, to kindly silence her and let their friend talk. If he didn't get a chance to say anything, he wasn't going to finish. Hermione bowed her head, ashamed that she had spoken out of line and looked away to focus on something else, rather than to keep interrupting.

"I walked out. I don't know; it was as if no one could see me. You said I was gone for six years? I don't know if it feels that way to me, hell I don't know exactly where I was, to add. I just remember falling on my ass, behind what looked like a heavy black door. I immediately jumped up, ready to go and kick my cousin's ass for stunning me, but I couldn't get back through the door. I heard everyone's voices and I heard Harry yelling. Then I heard you, Remus, you were telling him that I was gone." The memories started to flood back into him and he continued on, a look of panic in his face of not knowing why he was left behind, "You left me Remus!"

"I didn't, Sirius!" Remus yelled, letting go of Hermione and grabbing his friend's resting arm. He pleaded for him to believe his words. He would never have left Sirius behind. Just like him, he would have sacrificed himself for Sirius, "We couldn't go in there. You fell through the Veil, the biggest mystery of them all, and you came back! What happened in there?"

"I heard the voices on the other side and I banged on the door to let me out, but the people behind me kept saying I was going the wrong way. After I listened to those voices, your voices dying out, and I fell against the door. I realized where I had fallen and feared that I wasn't ever getting out. But, I didn't feel dead. I felt very much alive. I could touch myself, I could feel my hair, my skin, my face…everything." Sirius's voice began to calm, as if he were overcome by a feeling of serenity. His eyes went to Hermione's, and continued, "I started to hear voices again, from the dark black void. People were saying my name, telling me to join them and get away from the door. Then, I don't remember anything. I don't remember time, I don't remember feeling anything, and I just remembered that I was alone." His eyes fell back on Remus.

"Something in me wanted to leave. I guess I had grown bored of wherever I was and wanted to come back to Harry, to you, to my life. I wasn't afraid and something forced me to try and remember the way I came in. I tried forever it seemed, like I was running a blind maze and finally I came back to the door. The heavy dark door that I remembered coming through and not being able to get out of. I pushed against it, I screamed, yelled, beat my hands against it, but nothing. So, I waited. I waited for something, anything, a sign, any life form…and then it came. Someone was opening the door, coming through it, and as fast as I could I rushed out of it, aiming directly for the light. I didn't know where I was, where I was going, but then it was as if my eyes had opened for the first time, and I was back in the Ministry. I was standing in front of the Veil again, looking around for someone to see me, to hear me, to help me. My body felt light and I felt able to walk, or float rather, right out of that room. I walked right past the security guards, waving to them, but they didn't see me at all. It was as if I were invisible. I then closed my eyes and apparated to the end of the street here, and the second I did, I lost all my strength. I collapsed on the street, twisting my ankle a bit as I fell. I could see number eight and I knew that I was almost home. I knew someone would be here, didn't know who, I just had to try and get somewhere that was safe. I managed to get inside and I just collapsed. Then…then waking up a few minutes ago, and thinking I had an angel hovering over me."

"An angel?" Remus asked, carefully analyzing the words as if they were some significant clue.

"He meant me. He asked if I were an angel, when he first woke up." Hermione whispered, eyes beaming on Sirius, so happy he was home.

Sirius lied there for a few more minutes, quiet to himself and taking it all in. He rested his head against the back of the headboard and said, in a rather low and gravely voice, "I never thought I'd get here. I never thought I'd say it, but boy it's good to be back in this house."

"You'll like it much better now that Harry and Remus have, I guess you can say, de-Blacked it." Hermione added, getting off the bed and turning around to smooth the blanket she had caused to be out of place. Her instincts tucked it around Sirius's legs, trying to protect him, or keep him solid in that bed so he wouldn't leave again.

"Please tell me you got that horrible portrait down of my mother," Sirius asked, quickly lifting his head as if his sanity rode on it. He hated that portrait.

Remus let out a chuckle, "Yes. Hermione managed to get it down."

Sirius's mouth lifted into a small smile, pleased, and impressed, "I was so right when I said you were the brightest witch of your age."

"She's just like Lily," Remus added, turning to look at Hermione.

"I bet she is," Sirius smiled. He remembered how somewhat gawky she looked when she was growing up, and now she seemed to have grown completely out of that stage. Her brown hair was now longer, curlier as it appeared and her skin had softened as it aged over her pretty face.

Hermione could feel the men's eyes on her and she started to feel a bit awkward. She cleared her throat to break the silence and asked the men if they would like tea.

"I'll do it. I remember the way Sirius liked it. I'll bring up a few more snacks, as well." Remus stood, eager to set up an all-nighter to talk.

"No, I'd like to try and make it downstairs. I'm kind of eager to see the rest of the house now that you've said something, Hermione." Sirius suggested and began to pull off his blankets as Remus left the room.

His legs moved slowly from under the bedcovers, lightly touching down on the carpet below him. The intent concentration on his face told her that he wasn't strong enough to do this on his own, without help. The once strong and defiant Sirius was a painful sight to watch and she knew that this version of Sirius was not going to last long in this house.

"Here, let me help you stand up. You're pretty weak and shouldn't even attempt it." Hermione said, quickly assisting him by putting an arm around his waist to help him stand.

"When have I ever been known to do what I was told?" he chided.

"True. That, I remember."

He stood on his own, thanks to the assistance of Hermione, and staggered a little on his own two feet. He was thankful that she was there by his side; for fear that he might indeed not be strong enough to stand. His muscles would slowly return to what they were, but the rush of coming back through the Veil had somehow weakened him to a degree that was not explainable. It were as if his insides had to get used to gravity, magic and the very simple task of walking all over again.

He held onto Hermione's slim shoulders for leverage. For a brief moment, he lost his balance and she quickly recovered and threw both arms around his waist to keep him standing. As she held him tight against her, his chest crushing hers, she couldn't help but look up into those confused dark eyes of his. He looked down at her, still insecure about his walking abilities and saw the look on her face. He then noticed a definite change in her that made him quickly realize she wasn't a little girl anymore.

Remembering that he wasn't dead, he couldn't help but offer a slight grin with their close proximity. Her chocolate brown eyes looked up at him, pondering him, as if holding something back that she'd wanted to say for a long time.

"You're a lot taller than I remember," his voice suddenly dipped lower.

"Yes, I bet I am." She smiled, but it lasted no longer than two seconds when she immediately wanted to tell him how sorry she was.

"Are you all right?" he asked, curious why she had flicked the switch to go from smiling to frowning so quickly and now was staring at him with such intensity it nearly chilled him.

"Sirius," she paused, removing his arm from around her shoulder. She needed to face him at level, straightened and serious. "I'm sorry."

He narrowed his brow in question. He had no idea what she was getting at. He liked the lighter, friendlier Hermione that he was using as a crutch a few moments ago.

"I'm so sorry I acted the way I did, with you. I've carried this guilt for six years and I'm sorry I came down on you so hard with Harry. I'm sorry if I snapped at you or disrespected you at any point," As soon as she started to apologize, the flood gates started and she was unable to stop herself, until he did it for her.

He watched as she started to work herself up and closed his eyes as if to stop hearing anything. He shook his head furiously; trying to tune her out, for now was not the time. Sirius agreed with himself that whatever happened before the Veil was probably much deserved as he had obviously made some rash decisions. He'd had enough time to think about this, floating around in nothingness that now was not the time to explain himself.

"Hermione, Hermione, stop." He pleaded, his head narrowly teetering on the brink of a migraine after her rambling.

"No, I have to-"

"No, you don't. Just, stop." He finally hushed her, putting two fingers over her lips. "Now's not a good time to bring anything up from what happened before. It doesn't matter. You're…hell, how old are you now?"

"Twenty-one."

"Twenty-one? Christ! I have been gone long." He shook himself back to reality for a moment after the actual number threw him off for a few moments, "Anyway, you're twenty-one now and I know that after I regain my old self you and I will be able to have some pretty good rows, soon enough. But, for now, let me just wallow in my pain, soak up the attention and let a very pretty girl help me down the fucking stairs."

He had rendered her speechless and she stared at him with her mouth slightly gaped. He raised an eyebrow, for fear he might have offended her, but saw something slowly brighten in her and a small smile began to creep across her lips. He smiled back and hobbled over to her to use her for support, again.

They made it to the top of the stairs and carefully took them together, one by one, with Hermione's arm held tightly around his slender waist.

She was still thinking about what he said, "Sirius, you really are a…"

"An asshole, yes I know." He chuckled, trying to concentrate on the long set of stairs before them. Hermione let out a sweet laugh, warming her insides that the same sardonic Sirius was back at number twelve Grimmauld Place. "You know, I think I walk better down these stairs drunk."

"Focus or you're going to take both of us down."

Eventually, the two made it down the stairs with several curses under Sirius's breath. They rounded the banister of the stairs and started to aim their path towards the kitchen.

"I think I'm going to try and make it on my own, from here. It'll give me a minute to get a look at the place and see what you and my werewolf friend have done." Sirius moaned, leaning a moment against the wall, welcoming the rest like an old friend.

"Before you jump to conclusions, just know that Harry had a lot to do with it. And if you see anything resembling your family you might otherwise have destroyed, blame that on him too. He wanted to keep your memory alive most of all, with the Black name. I'll just go ahead and see if Remus needs anything." With a brisk skip in her step, Hermione set off towards the kitchen stairs and disappeared behind the swinging door.

Sirius took sanctuary in the kind wall he leaned against, taking a deep breath of relief that he was, as much as he hated to say it, home. His eyes began to adjust to the light in the room, or there lack of being much to begin with. He heard the light clanking of dishes and cups in the kitchen ahead of him and took another look around the foyer he stood in. The room seemed to be much brighter than before. Still the Victorian accents of the room seemed apparent, and he couldn't help but admit that his godson had done a nice job with everything else.

_Lots to see. Lots to take in._

Instead of dwelling on the new hangings now, he started to shift his body in the direction of the kitchen to follow the sounds, now of small laughing voices, erupting from beneath the stairs. He managed to use most of the furniture along the way for the support he needed, and every now and then took a glance at whatever was hanging against the wall.

Right before descending down the kitchen steps into the dark abyss that harbored his tea and any other sweet things that might tickle his tongue, he glance to his left to see a diploma of some sort. The paper was in an eight by ten frame, with an official stamp and seal from the Ministry of Magic. He leaned in closer to see what the paper was and to his surprise, he gripped the nearby chair even harder, baring white knuckles. Sirius Black couldn't believe his tired eyes, but the truth had finally come out:

_On this eighth day of July, the Ministry of Magic admits its wrongful judgment to convicted Azkaban prisoner, Sirius Black. Let it be known that the days cannot be returned, but a new life can prosper. On this day, we declare Sirius Black free and clear of all charges. _

_Minister of Magic_

He nearly thought his heart had stopped once he read what the declaration was. After just staring at the framed contents, Sirius blinked furiously, trying to hold back moistened eyes. Had it been true that his name had finally been cleared after all these years? Was he to be granted the freedom that he'd only dreamed of? Had Peter Pettigrew finally received what he had coming to him? Was Voldemort still as strong as before and if so, what was the current status of the Order?

Sirius felt his insides strengthen from the harbored emotion and his breath felt thin as utter joy filled him. Not being able to let his guard down for all these years had worn on him and now, as he welcomed the once darkened dungeon he called home, he found himself unable to contain himself.

"Your freedom papers," a kind voice said to Sirius's right. Hermione stood just out of the doorway, leaning against the wall, watching him study the paper so close. She could tell he was more than surprised and quite possibly, on the brink of tears. Sirius looked at her, wanting to ask so many questions, but his brain was too exhausted to form any important ones right now. "Harry had it framed, for your memory of course. He thought it good to have it hanging right before the door where all the Order members meet. We're all quite proud of it. We're all quite proud of you." She smiled and lowered her voice a little, "Even as stubborn as you were."

Catching himself before erupting into a pathetic display, Sirius hid his emotion with a small smile. His arrogance and stubbornness had landed him right into the pit of despair and nothingness and only now, was he being given a second chance. As he thought about the Order and those that had fought with him, he had to constantly remind himself that this time, he wasn't going to fuck it up.

"Harry misses you a lot, Sirius. When he comes home, I'm not quite sure what he'll do." She said sweetly, motherly almost.

Sirius looked back around the room and against the furthest wall; a framed poster of Harry on his broom soared proudly. It was an official poster of the Chudley Cannon's and their star seeker. Sirius grinned to himself as the enchanted poster waved and winked at him, hovering there on his broom.

"I've missed him. I thought about him a lot when I was away. I thought about him a lot before, I went away. I thought about a lot of people when I was alone. It was like being in prison again, only this time, I got another chance to fight." He turned his back on the wall, and used it to lean against. He'd cast a few glances over at Hermione who had taken to leaning her head against the wall romantically. Her curls fell over her shoulders, framing her face like a portrait.

"I had a lot of time to think about everything I was missing; Harry graduating, the downfall of Voldemort, all of Harry's friends, like you, for example. I always wondered what you'd go on doing. You do remind me of Lily. Maybe that's why Harry has taken to you, so well. You remind him of a mother he never knew. What is it that you do, now?"

"I'm an Auror."

"I knew it. I knew the Ministry was going to get you somehow." He stared off into space, allowing his memory a few glimpses into the past.

"I'm sorry you were lonely."

He thought about her words. Had he been lonely? Had he been there with no one to talk to all these years, or were the conscience state of memories and thoughts that plagued him to go on his only company?

"It wasn't just that. It was the time I had to regret what I'd done, or not had the chance to do. I was twenty-one when I went to Azkaban. I never had any time to be responsible. I never had much time with Harry to be that father figure that he needed. I never had the time to be anything else but a rebel." He sighed, slowly shaking his head as these thoughts filled him, and physically showing the strain it put on him.

"Like you just told me upstairs, you can't think that way, right now. Otherwise, you'll sink yourself into depression. Your time is precious, yes. But, look at it this way, you are back. You can do all those things that you think you missed out on."

The moment had gotten too serious and gave a quick chuckle. He pushed himself off the wall and threw an arm around Hermione for support down the stairs, "Ah, I just need to get laid and everything will sort itself out."

Feeling her cheeks redden, she helped him down the stairs, quietly thinking to herself that Sirius Black was back.


	4. A Charming Realization

_A note from Serade Black: Some of you may think this is the first time since April that I'm updating this. Not true. I've actually gone back and rewritten/reworked the first 3 chapters. Some grammatical changes, some slight plot changes, but I only replaced the chapter, in order to keep the review count. For some reason, some folks don't read some stuff without a review count. Go figure._

_The poem – it's dripping with euphanisims and though it might be a little too advance for where they mentally are, I really liked the poem for the two of them. It's nice to have hidden little clues staring at you, when you didn't even see it as a clue in the beginning. thumps Sirius_

_Writing Sirius in this chapter was a bit of a challenge, so bear with me. I hope I wrote him so that you folks will understand his direction. I hate it when nothing is set up and the pairing just jump into it. Believe me, it's not that way with my stories._

_Enjoy and thank you ALL for your comments, suggestions and reviews!_

**Ch. 4 A Charming Realization**

Sirius's recuperation could be compared to someone just leaving a rehab center after a car accident. His muscles were just getting used to gravity, his eyes were still quite sensitive to light and his inner body still needed to adjust to the changes around him. Sirius couldn't recall if he actually walked or flew through the darkness as he followed voices around, nor did he recall if he actually spoke to anyone long enough to deem it a conversation. It was more like he just "existed" beyond, trapped between the spirit world and a place just after living. He couldn't quite explain it, but then again, that's why the Veil was kept in the department of mysteries.

As Sirius gained strength, his wit was never lost. He still remained that petulant stubborn child that never wanted to do what he was told and would pout if he didn't get his way. He'd want to prowl about the house, when he was supposed to be resting, or he was up for a good night of cards with a fine bottle of Fire Whisky. Regardless, Sirius brought back a spirit in the Order that could only be compared to hope. A glimmer of their own magic that even those of their own could return from beyond? Let the Death Eaters try to figure that one out. Perhaps, once the word got out, Voldemort would believe that the Order members had a secret weapon up their sleeve.

Either that or it was just a fluke coincidence that one of the wizarding world's most infamous convict just happened to return from the dead.

A few weeks passed and the bright full moon was upon them. Remus left Hermione to inform Sirius of his departure, and he specifically instructed her to not let him follow him, no matter how convincing he was. They couldn't risk Sirius's animagus form being recognized, even with that slim chance.

As if he meant to alert three houses down that he was coming down the stairs, Sirius came stomping down into the kitchen. He followed his nose to the delicious stew-like concoction that Hermione was brewing on the stove. The aroma of cooked vegetables in a tomato base with a touch of basil filled his keen senses and he carefully attempted to dip a finger into the small steaming cauldron.

In the corner of her eye, she saw his slender hand slowly moving over the pot and was quick to defend her cooking with a swift slap on his wrist. Like a puppy being surprisingly scolded, Sirius let out a tiny yelp and looked at her with big guilty eyes.

"Don't you dare contaminate it, before I'm done with it!" She chided, holding up a wooden spoon to threaten him.

Once he saw that she wasn't playing around, even with a glimmer of a smirk in the corner of her rose colored lips, he placed his hand behind his back. She nodded her chin in a silent understanding and carefully set down the wooden spoon.

"So, where's Remus, tonight? Making a call to my cousin?" Sirius asked, smirking to himself that at least someone was getting some play, which was more than he could say for himself.

"No," she smiled. He could be so crude sometimes, "He's not going to be home for a few days."

"Why not?" He suspiciously inquired, moving dangerously close behind her to try and stick his finger back into the sauce. Thus, proving to himself he was that quick and clever.

She saw his hand sneaking past her in her peripheral vision and was quick to threaten his hand with the wooden spoon again, "It's a full moon."

"Oh, man!?" Sirius froze. "Where'd he go?" Sirius made a mad dash to the stairs, preparing to run out the front door to meet him for a row.

"I'm not telling!" She immediately dropped her wooden weapon and ran to place herself between Sirius and the door, acting as a barricade. "Besides, he told me to keep you here!"

"Hermione, come on! I've been kooked up in this house for nearly three weeks, now. I'm dying to run outside! Please, tell me where he went." Sirius begged, running a hand through his silky black hair. He could feel his bones warming with the temptation of breaking free of his home prison and finally feel the fresh air against his face. He started pacing back and forth in the kitchen, racking his brain for a clue to think where he might go for his transformation.

"No! I'm not letting you outside, Sirius. You're still recuperating! Besides, if anyone saw you in your form, they might recognize you. So, do us a favor and just listen to us, for right now." She dropped her arms from playing 'keep away' with the door, hoping that he wasn't going to push her further.

With a dramatic huff, he crossed his arms over his chest and stood in front of her. He bowed his head, and looked up at her with sweet eyes that only a mother could love under a dark curtain of locks. She couldn't help but crack a smile and with a hand on her hip, she shook her head and returned to her cooking.

As she walked away without even a second glance, his ego quickly deflated like a wilting balloon. Of all his secret "womanizing" tactics, the pout normally got him what he wanted and she tossed it away like an old toy, barely cracking a smile. His eyes returned to the door that appeared so inviting as if they were the gates of freedom, but what good was it to romp under a full moon, when your best friend was out there in an undisclosed location?

He looked back at Hermione who was leaning against the counter, cutting up vegetables the old muggle way – with a knife. He narrowed his eyes on her, trying to think of a way to get what he wanted. In the process of his analysis, he couldn't help but tilt his head slightly to admire her female curves hidden in those denim jeans. She wore a red fitted sweater that clung to her like a glove over her womanly curves, displaying all of her female attributes that reminded him that she had, indeed, grown up. He took another glance back up at the door, remembering that no one else was around and realized the two of them would be all alone. With the clever mind of a hunter, he really wanted to find out where his friend was, so he was going to dust off a few charms in order to get it out of her.

Sirius closed his eyes for a moment to center himself. He rolled his shoulders back, shook out his arms and cracked his knuckles, as if preparing for an old exercise. Then, as he opened his eyes, he lowered his chin, left a smirk at the corner of his mouth and focused on the challenge ahead of him – Hermione Granger.

The newly composed Sirius sauntered on over to the wooden pantry, as the new character began to take over and he inquired her preference, "Red or white?"

Hermione pulled herself away from her diligent carrot cutting and looked back to see Sirius standing by the wines, "Oh, red."

He selected the requested wine, opened it, and retrieved two glasses from the cupboard. Like a skilled master, he poured the darkened liquid into the glass, swooshed it around for a few seconds to allow it to breathe. He placed the bottle down and handed her a glass. She tore herself away from chopping to make a quick toast with him and then returned to her vegetables, completely oblivious.

Sirius turned around and rested his elbows on the counter, his entire body relaxed and suave, making small talk about dinner and about how they hadn't heard from Harry, yet. After a few sly glances in her direction, he noticed a few loose locks of hair falling in front of her shoulders, exposing a perfect place on the back of her neck he would otherwise use as a weak spot.

Like a vampire being tempted with droplets of blood, he licked his lips and forced himself to look away from focusing on the pale skin. He took an extra breath, reminding himself that it was just the fact that he hadn't been with a woman in so long, that his resistance to the female flesh was weak. With a deep swallow, he took a larger sip of his wine and shook his head lightly to refocus on his challenge. Bracing himself, he glanced back over at her to quickly try and figure her out, in order to retrieve the information he desired.

In his millisecond of weakness, he caught himself not just looking at her, but actually watching her. He remembered her as a gawky fifteen year old, but he couldn't help but admire how pretty she really was. He felt foolish for thinking this, but maybe it was just that he'd never quite noticed Hermione before.

As she stood there, looking quite content, with a subtle hint of a smile tracing her pale pink lips, she could feel his eyes on her and glanced over, "What's wrong?"

_This was Harry's best friend. She has no clue what you're thinking about._

His eyes settled on her sweet face and he just simply answered, "You're very pretty."

Hermione blinked a few times, taken aback with his random words. She quickly busied herself with the remainder of the preparations and just whispered, "Thank you."

Sirius's plan had gotten away from himself and he realized that it was truth coming from his mouth, in place of seduction. None of the smarmy smooth Casanova he used to draw out for times of interrogation, but more of the humble awestruck sincere character that rarely came out. He averted his eyes as he lost himself within his own thoughts, as Hermione remained concerned for the dinner. She had taken to heart what Sirius had said, but it didn't distract her enough to lose her focus.

Instead, she continued to work around the kitchen, moving around Sirius as if he wasn't there. She appeared to be comfortable with him, having to be his nurse the last three weeks, being somewhat of a den mother to two grown men as they reverted to school boys with late night drinking, star gazing, and heated conversations regarding the Order.

He watched how she'd reach around him if she needed something by him, smiling up at him and taking in the small conversation that she welcomed if it was something intelligent to say, once he stopped begging for Remus's location.

Sirius moved away from the counter as she excused herself to lean over him again, realizing that he was more in the way, rather than a help. She didn't blush when he smiled at her, she didn't dote on him, and she didn't quietly admire him from afar. She wasn't like the past conquests in his jaded youth, but someone different. Someone he might have thought boring, or just rather plain. Perhaps it was his actual age that reminded him of not being that youthful Sirius, but of someone whose time had come and gone. Unfortunate to have his prime years stripped from him, leaving him in his current state, maybe the inner child was changing as well.

He mulled it over in his mind; or rather he mentally fought the little voice in his head that told him that nothing within him had changed. But, as he looked in the mirror in the morning, he didn't see that Hogwarts boy looking back at him. With that, he had no choice but to conclude that maybe those materialistic things didn't matter to him, anymore. Maybe he no longer wanted to have the kind of woman that said the things he wanted, and maybe, just maybe he wanted someone far more independent. Someone like….Hermione?

_This required another drink._

With these thoughts plaguing his brain, the idea of someone like Hermione intrigued him. She might still be a challenge, but suddenly it felt like the winds were changing with this one, and now it was a matter of principle.

With a moments thought, he quickly stepped back to the counter to refill his wine glass and offered to top her glass off as well. He paused as he set the bottle down, a bit unsure if what he was about to ask would come out right. He tried to switch back on the "old Sirius" to see if there was anything worth saving there, just incase she were to divulge Remus's transformation hideout one last time.

"Hermione, might I be so bold to ask if you're with anyone?"

She glanced back over at him, as if he had just spoken something in an obscure language, but answered just the same, "Not right now." She dropped her fine cut carrots into the stew and continued, "I just got out of a relationship, not too long ago. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." He replied, turning away and facing the kitchen table in the center of the room for a new sense of direction.

The plan had seemed to backfire, before he could get started. Instead of trying to seduce Hermione, the nicer, more genuine side of him had taken over. At this point, it was inevitable and he threw in the white flag, submitting to his subconscious. She was not to be the easy target he had mistaken her womanly curves for. Looks could be deceiving, but as he recalled that only small talk was made between them, he quickly realized that this "brightest witch" was a clever one. With the slightest of words, she was able to bewitch Sirius Black enough to doubt his own mind and take her seriously as an adult.

_Clever witch._

Picking up his shattered ego, replacing it was parts of a conscience, he shook of his genuine sneaky side and went to retrieve a couple of candlesticks down from the withered hutch he remembered barely reaching with his small fingers as a child. He positioned the candles in the center of the table and slowly walked around the room, extinguishing all the torches, except for one by the stairs.

Sirius found himself taking a deep breath, collecting his tortured thoughts and ventured slowly behind Hermione. He wanted to try one last hidden tactic, to test both himself and her to see if things had indeed changed.

She turned her head slightly, hearing his quiet footsteps approaching.

"So, have you and Remus ever gotten together?" He baited.

Hermione let out a sweet little laugh, shaking her head, "You're not the first to ask, but the answer is still, no."

"Is it the age thing?" He pressed, slowly moving closer behind her.

"Oh, no." She replied with an air of nonchalance.

"No?" He repeated, raising an eyebrow, taking in the fragrant scent of her hair.

She turned around to fetch something from pantry, but ran right into him standing so close. She rebound back and continued, "No, that's never bothered me. I've been out with men Remus's age; your age."

He raised an eyebrow, but really wasn't that surprised. Boys, or rather men, her age probably wouldn't keep her interested with their concerns for very long. It was obvious that an older man, a worldly man, would be more suitable for her. Otherwise, mere thoughts from the average male in her generation wouldn't be able to sustain a colorful conversation long enough to keep her interest.

Hermione titled her head for him, glancing at the pantry to give him the hint that she wished to move. Sirius ignored her insinuation and slowly placed both hands on the counter behind her, leaning in. As he preyed on her white flag in his vague attempt at resurrecting the seduction, he swore for a second that he caught her flutter her eyes and catch her breath when he moved to his close proximity.

"Yeah? Like who?" He practically whispered; his voice falling dangerously low.

_Oh, he was good._

Hermione had fleeting thoughts of her puppy dog crush where as that younger girl; she would so turn into a puddle of mush right now with how close he leaned on her. The way his dark locks fell around his face like a dangerous rebel, with day old stubble on his chin and eyes that would melt the toughest Death Eater herself. How she wished that her pulse rate would slow down from its abrupt dramatic increase in tempo that if he had actually made contact against her chest, she would have been found out.

Instead, she kept the look of steel, playing the upper card in his little cat and mouse game with Remus's location. She didn't play on his leering, his glances, but she was a bit taken with his interest in her seeing anyone. The idea right now of telling him that her past love was Severus Snape would probably give him such a mental crack, she wanted to save that one for another time. For now, she had to play him just enough, to let him think he had the upper hand.

She took a few seconds to collect herself from her small lapse and placed a hand against his chest. Pausing for a moment to feel a firm body confined under the black sweater, she pushed him out of her way to get by him, "No one, you need to know about right now."

Sirius let out a light chuckle and freed her, turning back around to lean against the counter.

_She was on to you._

Intrigued with her mystery man, he pressed further, "But, you and Remus never….not even with quiet, alone nights like this…in a big house…knowing no one would interrupt you?"

"No, never." She smiled back at him, going to the cupboard to retrieve plates and bowls. "Remus and I have an understanding and a very good friendship. He's also been with Tonks for the last five years." She started to pour the stew into bowls as she spoke and Sirius moved to make himself useful by setting the table. "Not that I'd want to. Remus really isn't my type."

"I see. Do you even have a type?" He baited, straightening the placemats.

Hermione paused for a moment, smiling to herself that he really was trying hard. She would remember all of this, the next time there was something he wanted to know, "No, I don't."

They sat down to a nice dinner, making small conversation and Sirius really talking up the stew she had slaved over. He kept her smiling, she even laughed, he kept her wine glass full and by the end of dinner, they had finished off a bottle all on their own. It had been the first time just the two of them had dined together, for all the other nights it was the three of them, or she alone. To have Sirius in the house with her, by herself, earned a proper warning from Remus before he left, but mostly it was just about him trying to sneak out to find him. Personally, Hermione worried for Sirius that she wasn't going to be enough to entertain him, and he would be forced to sneak out.

They had no choice to accept that though Sirius acted like a stubborn prat, he was an adult and knew that he had already acted irrational enough to get himself thrown into a black abyss that he wasn't stupid to risk an outing on his own. Instead, Hermione's cooking had lured him into her company and as he helped her with the clean up, taking nearly all the duties, he was otherwise enjoying just having her around.

Having observed her normal routine of curling up on the couch in the sitting room with whatever book peaked her interest, he wanted to prove to her that he, too, was cultured. He went to his private bookshelf that remained untouched in his bedroom and returned downstairs, following her lead.

"I didn't think you could read," She teased, tucking the throw blanket around her legs as she stretched out on the sofa. He stopped saddening at the foot of the stairs, rounding into her direction, with repulsed look on his face. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant-"

"I didn't get nearly perfect OWL's on my good looks alone," he bragged, pointing to his chest in a mocking manner. "Though they did help." He finished with a wink.

He pretended to ignore her rebuttal, and went to the end of the sofa where her feet lay stretched to the end. He lightly tapped them with his book to have her move them and turned around to sit. Once he got comfortable, he turned back towards her feet gently lifted them up and replaced them over his lap. Watching his entire routine, she couldn't help but bite her lip to refrain from giggling a rather childish sound.

"No, my dear, I read." He gave her a dark look of daggers, insinuating that she ought to know better. "Contrary to what my reputation shall lead you to believe, I rather enjoy reading poetry, but don't let that out."

She hated to admit that as much as they used to fight before he went into the Veil, something she tried to apologize for, but he still wasn't letting her, she was honestly charmed by him. Maybe it was how he was when Remus wasn't around, thought that wasn't bad either. She loved hearing the men laugh throughout the house, discuss their school antics and then blow up into heated arguments that later were resolved with a shot of fire whisky and a bubbling apology. Her dinner time with Sirius tonight, proved that the two could actually get along, because she started to believe that he might have actually opened his eyes and seen her as an adult and not some brainiac fifteen year old.

The tiny voice in the back of her head was trying to be suppressed by the "no way" voice, suggesting that her puppy dog crush might be rehatching, but it was quickly silenced. She couldn't allow herself the luxury of living with said crush, when he would never see you as anything more than his godson's best friend. Not to mention the damage that it might do to Harry, if he were to find out about said crush. However, she recalled numerous times when the sudden blow of Sirius's departure started to soften that Harry had mentioned Hermione possibly having a crush on him, with the way she'd slip his name in here and there. Whenever they talked about a chance he might come back, or what he was like in his younger days, it always seemed to enlighten Harry's mourning with the tease of her questionable admiration.

Informing Harry that a crush on Sirius was completely bogus only helped ignite it further in her secret thoughts. She was a teenager and that's what they do, no matter how hard you tried to fight it with volumes of spells and essays.

Now, as Sirius and Hermione lay cozy in the sitting room, her bare feet under a blanket resting comfortably over his lap, she smiled at him. The Casanova Sirius had been put away for another night, realizing that the hidden location of Remus was not to be divulged and let down his guard. The charming, innocent, poetry reading Sirius had accompanied her and she closed her book over her chest to humor him.

"All right, then read me one." She quietly requested, challenging him just the same.

"Read you one from my book? Surely, you can read it yourself." He mocked, holding a stern face that was convincing enough that he might crack that smile wider. "I heard you got one more OWL than I did, but it's a pity that you can't even –"

She reached up to playfully hit him on the arm. He was pushing her buttons, but oh, how she enjoyed it.

"Well, if you insist." He humored, rolling his eyes to himself, pretending to be put out with her request.

He flipped through a few pages of the worn book, glancing down at a few to pick out the right one. Finally, he came across a favorite of his, he remembered reading before he fell through the Veil, on one of the nights he was alone in the house between Order meetings.

He cleared his throat and glanced back over at his patient audience of one, watching him, waiting for him to begin. Ready to get lost in the sound of his tranquil voice, she settled back into her pillow and focused on him as he returned to his book.

"EVEN as on some black background full of night

And hollow storm in cloudy disarray,

The forceful brush of some great master may

More brilliantly evoke a higher light;

So beautiful, so delicately white,

So like a very metaphor of May,

Your loveliness on my life's sombre grey

In its perfection stands out doubly bright.

And yet your beauty breeds a strange despair,

And pang of yearning in the helpless heart;

To shield you from time's fraying wear and tear,

That from yourself would wrench apart,

How save you, fairest, but to set you where

Mortality kills death in deathless art? – Mathilide Blind."

Hermione stilled. Her heart never changed its pace, but she felt herself swallow a few extra times with the way her mouth dried out. His voice was absolutely perfect as he spoke every word. She nearly found herself hypnotized with the way his lips moved, his chin raised on a new line and how his eyes flicked over the page. She could feel that younger version of her wishing to come out, but it was too soon to let her come to surface. Not when Snape was still in the back of her mind and they had Sirius's rehabilitation to continue.

"Thank you, for reading that to me." She sweetly smiled, trying to show her inner appreciation, but not too much.

"You're quite welcome." He nodded, raising his chin a bit as he flipped through the book, keeping his eyes on the pages.

The two continued to read in silence, basking in their company, Sirius resting his wrists over Hermione's covered feet that lay across his lap. As Hermione's mind drifted under heavy hooded eyes, she feared that this moment with Sirius would disappear once Remus returned. She rather liked this softer side of the rebel, that she believed not to many knew about. He often compared her to Lily and she couldn't help but wonder if maybe Lily was the only other one that knew Sirius Black liked poetry.

When it was too much for her to keep her eyes open, she excused herself to bed. She bid him good night and retreated up the stairs, unknowing that his eyes followed her every step into the darkened hallway to her own bedroom.


	5. Breaking Down Walls

_A note from Serade Black: I'm working away on this story. Thank you so much for all of your reviews and comments. It's off to a slow start, it's not as intricate as my fellow shippers coughRJLupinsKatcoughSciFiChick but, then again, I am learning from them. _

_I assure you that more will come about, it just takes time. Those of you that are salivating for any morsel of Snape, rest assure, that he's returning shortly. _

**Ch. 5 – "Breaking Down Walls"**

The sneaking rays of sunlight started to break into the midnight fresh room of crimson bed linens and eloquent aged furniture. Bleeding through its curtains, the tease of a late morning eased its way into the cave to its slumbering bear that lay quietly. The very sound of the elemental intruder caused the eyes of the Returned begin to flutter and a nose twitched upon its invasion.

Sirius raised a lazy arm up from under the haven of soft sheets and ran a hand over his face to awaken him. The sharp stubble of his lazy days of shaving scratched even his palm and he made the mental note of trimming himself up, later that afternoon. He absently scratched his head and forced his body to embrace another day in his homemade captivity. Of course, he preferred this rather than welcoming the dark airy abyss he so recently came from. Another day lying around the house, choosing what couch to nap on, waiting for someone to visit him.

He'd often thought about just walking out that door, donning a baseball hat, jacket and looking the other way should anyone glance his way twice. But, the sweet, annoying voice in the back of his head, otherwise known as his previous night's dinner companion, reminded him that it was too risky. He had no choice, but to sit tight, wait for his complete recovery, or something close to it, and have his day at the Ministry.

Sirius neglected to put on a robe, or even a shirt for that matter, for he knew that Remus was probably still gone and Hermione off to work. He'd be able to walk around the house in any manner of his choosing. Walking around in the nude was an idea, though the portraits might gawk, seeing as some of them were relatives and the temperature in the house was still a bit on the chill side. Instead, he tightened the string on his linen pants and made his way down to the kitchen.

He pressed on through the doorway tromped down the stairs when he saw that his dinner companion was wrapped in a terrycloth robe, drinking tea as she overlooked the Daily Prophet.

He stopped for a moment and wondered why she was still home, "What are you doing?"

Hermione glanced up, not ready to take in such a sight so early and felt her breath escape her. She blinked a couple of times, upon seeing his bare chest decorated in a few tattoos for the first time, reminding her of where he'd come from. He was just too handsome for prison, but maybe it was prison that made him so much more to look at, knowing he'd had lived a hard life. He was a beautiful tragedy and she'd just realized that she hadn't answered him, yet. Her eyes quickly dropped back down to focus on the black and white moving picture of happy witches exiting a grand opening of a store in Diagon Alley.

"I'm reading the Sundays." She simply answered, as if seeing a handsome, shirtless, tattooed man in her kitchen was completely normal.

He nodded his head, giving her a little smirk, not at all regretting not wearing a shirt after that look he just saw in her eye. _Still got it. _With a heavy chip on his shoulder, he sauntered on over to the counter and started to charm the kettle to start heating.

"No, I mean don't you have to be at work today or something?"

"We have rotating days off. I tried to work mine around Remus's transformation, this time around." She added, trying to take more interest in the sports section and look for Harry's name, rather than glancing behind her.

"Do you always do it that way?"

"Not usually. We just had to make sure you weren't going to run away to find him." She quickly replied, sipping her tea gracefully, ready for his negation.

Upon her insinuation, he spun around and narrowed his eyes on the bun of messy curls wrapped up in a black hair tie. He wasn't a child, so they need to feel like they ought to treat him in such a way. How dare they accuse him of such a horrendous idea!

_Good thing she can't read minds. Note to self: Hermione will always be home when Remus is not._

"I'm...Well, I'm...I wouldn't!" He lied, slowly turning around with attitude to finish his tea, taking his aggression out on the Earl Grey bag.

Hermione sighed, pretending to already be put out with him, "You would and I know you thought about it."

Sirius dropped his spoon on the counter with a loud clang and sneered his lip mockingly. He carefully carried his cup to the other side of the table, pretending that she didn't deserve an answer to her quip. He made a dramatic display with sitting down at the table and avoided glancing back at her, as he quietly thought of a way to challenge her. He remembered her constant complaints to Harry over her Divinations class and thought it a good time to open a sore spot on the subject.

"Do you practice telepathy?" He baited, waiting for her to conjure something good up.

"Yes." _No. _She peeped, slowly trailing her eyes up the table to the occupant that sat estranged from her.

With a perk of one eyebrow and a smirk on her lip, she knew that what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. In a flash, Sirius paled, dropping any prodding of a good row, and returned his attentions to the steam rising from his cup, trying to clear his mind of anything and everything, before he was caught. Once Hermione saw his quiet white flag, she returned to scanning the Daily Prophet for Harry's name.

The natural kitchen sounds settled around them, indicating that the morning was quickly passing them by and Hermione got up to start her day. After setting her cup in the sink to have it devoured by an enchanted scrubbing sponge, she turned leave the kitchen. As she passed an uninterested Sirius, she dropped the Daily Prophet in front of him, perfectly folded to display the Chudley Cannon's seeker being raised onto the shoulders of his fellow players.

Sirius seized the newspaper, breaking into a grin so wide his cheeks felt stretched to their max. As he looked down at the star player, he felt himself beaming as James Potter's son smiled back at him, laughing and clutching a fluttering golden snitch in his left hand. An exhausting pang in his heart reminded Sirius of how much he missed Harry, like a proud parent wanting so desperately to talk to his child. He quickly spread out the paper before him, searching for more information. His eyes focused on the moving picture of his godson, sneaking away now and then to read the story that was actually just about the team.

Hermione was coming back down the stairs, now donning jeans and hoodie and nearly ran into a frantic Sirius who whirled around the banister. She caught herself against the wall, next to where Mrs. Black's portrait used to hang, and saw him disappear behind the heavy oak door leading to his bedroom at the end of the hallway. She paid no attention to him, since he probably wasn't talking to her as long he believed she had the ability to read minds.

Ten minutes later, Hermione was seated on the floor in the sitting room with ink and a quill, jotting down a few notes for work. She heard Sirius rustling about on the floor above her, and then again as he came down the stairs loud enough to believe he fell down them.

"What are you doing?" She hurried to say to him, now completely dressed and running in front of the fireplace.

"I'm going to Harry. Let me go." He demanded, zipping up his leather jacket.

As if he were about to let every demon out of its cage, she took to her feet faster than a cheetah and ran in front of him. "Sirius, no! You know you can't leave."

"Hermione, the paper said they're going to be in Brighton tonight. We know where he is. I'll go there and surprise him. Where's the floo powder?" He explained, dashing around the living room like a crazed man on his search for the magic powder.

"This house is still unplottable, Sirius! You can't floo out of it! It's still headquarters, we'd be discovered!" She rushed to say, her arms spread out to prevent him from making a ridiculous mad dash into the fireplace, in his most desperate moment.

"Damn it! Then, I'll apparate!" Sirius went toward the front door.

Completely unready for the sudden dramatic attempts to leave Grimmauld Place, Hermione felt like she was chasing a 3 year old toddler away from electric outlets, afraid he would hurt himself.

"Sirius Black, stop it! You know you can't leave this house!" Hermione's voice was starting to get stern, the way Molly Weasley's voice got whenever she was lecturing Fred and George. "Stop acting like this. You can't go."

He turned around on Hermione, as he heard her swift rush behind him. When he faced her, she bumped against him like a wall and stepped back in surprise. "Hermione, I am, and I will. I will just show up and surprise him. I need to see him!"

"You'll scare him to death! Sirius, he thinks your dead! The whole wizarding world thinks that you are, so you can't expect to just walk into the locker room and show up on Harry! You're not thinking right!"

"But, why hasn't he contacted us?" He shouted back, beginning to feel the start of his temper slowly escaping him. The idea was simple – he was leaving.

"I'm sure for good reason!" She yelled back, flailing her arms about in frustration.

Sirius avoided all eye contact and he shook his head as if the answer wasn't good enough for him. "Hermione, I tried to get back to this bloody house for six years! Now for the last three weeks I feel like I'm going as crazy as my cousin Bellatrix in Azkaban! I know where Harry will be tonight; he needs to know I'm back!"

As he reached for the door handle, she grabbed his arm fiercely and tugged him back to reason like she was saving him from getting run over by a car. She couldn't yell at him, she knew what he wanted, but this was him being that petulant stubborn child again, coming out to try and argue with her.

"Sirius look, I know you're dying to get out. I know you want to change and run and chase cars and whatever, but you know what you're risking. For one wizard to recognize you could ruin everything and then where would we be? You're not ready to do magic properly, yet. You're still not all there-"

"I'm all there!" He shouted at her, taking a deep breath to help him think straight.

"Fine, you're there. But, don't let Harry down by grabbing him now. He'll come home, Sirius. He always does."

Sirius could feel her grip on him loosen. At first she held his arm tight, ready to use her entire strength to pull him back from making a terrible mistake, later relaxing enough to let him know she understood his torment. The carrot of knowing where Harry was in just a few hours dangled in front of him like a rabbit. As much as it pained him to admit, he knew she was right by reminding him how much he was actually risking. The temptation was about to swallow him whole; just to see Harry to let him know he wasn't leaving again, burned him inside. His palms began to sweat from his fists being balled, his heart was racing with his own defense and she finally released him altogether. He felt her eyes on him, displaying her trust in him that he wasn't going to dash out the door.

For the most part, Sirius and Hermione had gotten along. This was the first time since his return, that they raised their voices to each other. Sure, she bossed him around when he'd do something in the house that was out of her normal routine, like leaving several dirty plates in the living room, but that was to be expected. She lived with two very different men. The idea of a good row with Hermione was titillating, tempting even, but never had it resulted into a shouting match over what was right and what was easy.

What Sirius had been accused of, wasn't necessarily far from the truth; he just didn't feel "right". Even his bones felt funny, like his muscles were still getting used to working with them, but his mental state was what concerned him. Like a stronger case of vertigo, the room would spin, but the state of matters wouldn't always make sense to him. Like running to a quidditch match two hours away and showing up in Harry's locker room sounded like a pleasant surprise, but how would he react when his dead relative returned? It was a rash decision to make, and he should have known that if Hermione had taken the day off to keep an eye on him to begin with, then there was no way she was actually going to tell him where the floo powder was in that place. Or was there any left? Or was it that he couldn't? He wasn't sure.

Sirius felt his frustration bottling up inside of him, like a canned soda about to explode after three hours in a freezer, and he grudgingly pulled his arm away from her grasp. He turned on his heel and stormed off towards the kitchen. Hearing him unzip his jacket, indicating he was going to stay, he kicked open the kitchen door and disappeared into the room.

Feeling a tinge of guilt by keeping him away from the most important person in his life made her feel terrible. Her frame weekend from the battle and she returned back to the coffee table, trying not to envision Sirius sneaking out the garden door. She was relieved to hear the small tinkering sounds and the scraping of a chair traveling from the kitchen. Upon hearing a few abrupt hand slams on the table top, she knew he was just pouting and taking his aggression out.

After an hour of no new sounds coming from the kitchen, Hermione glanced up at the clock and noted the time. She wondered if he hadn't taken off out that kitchen window like she predicted. Finding herself a bit unsettled, she finished the last line on her parchment and went to go and check on him. Should Sirius be gone by the time she inspected the kitchen, she replayed it in her mind where it was he said that Harry was, that she might start looking for him.

As she neared the door, she quietly prayed that he was still behind it. If he wasn't already dead, she was going to kill him if he wasn't sitting there behaving like a good school boy.

Immediately, her eyes were saddened by their vision. He hadn't escaped, but instead his whole body slumped down like a sack of potatoes propped up in a chair. His fingers were wrapped around a small glass that rested on the table, half filled with an amber liquid and he stared off into space like he didn't even notice her coming in. _How the mighty have fallen._

Her heart fell, carrying on a heavy burden that a fight with her drove him to drinking so early in the afternoon. Observing his state, a shattered mirror of a man so close to recuperating, she doubted her maternal instincts and almost wished he wasn't sitting there and preferred he'd have run off. He sat there motionless, as if his state of drink had already stunned him into the world of inebriation.

Prepared for whatever he was about to throw at her, she had to put on a strong mask. She lifted her chin proudly and entered the room, pretending.

"Oh, for Heaven's sakes, Sirius. It's not even one in the afternoon, yet." She scoffed.

She rushed by him, grabbing the bottle with one hand and corking it with another before he had a chance to reach for it. The bottle went back to its home on one of the higher cupboards and hoped that he hadn't seen where it had gone.

"Hermione, leave it!" A reanimated Sirius instructed, lifting his head steady and standing from his chair.

For a man that had managed to consume more than half the bottle in less than an hour, he seemed pretty together. He didn't stagger, he wasn't belligerent, and he didn't seem to slur his words. He was made of steel, this man.

Rather than start a physical altercation with the pretty young girl, his plan was to simply walk over and retrieve his liquid solitude. She, on the other hand, had no problem using physical force using anything but gentle hands to push him away from the cabinets. When she pushed against his chest firmly, he lost a bit of his balance and stepped back into the table.

"Sirius, no, I won't let you do this to yourself. I'm trying to help you and you just can't see that!" She urged, fearing that her next step was to take her wand and bind him against his own wishes.

"Just leave me be, Hermione. I don't need you to mother me!" He spat, not with hatred, but more from a person who was just completely frustrated with the situation and wanted to be left alone.

"Then stop acting like a child and I won't. You're not making this easy on me today and I can't figure out why you're trying so hard against me. I'm sorry you don't understand what I'm doing for you Sirius-"

"I know what you're doing. I'm not a blind man. I just...I can't...I can't feel right..." He tried to explain, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

Hermione released the grip on her wand in her pocket. In a matter of seconds, she watched Sirius weaken; giving into a battle he knew he wasn't going to win. In fewer words, he surrendered to her, falling locks and all. He leaned back against the table behind him, letting his head fall and running a hand through his tussled hair. His hands reached up and ran over his face, trying to clear away the bleary haze in order to collect himself before he just fell apart before her. His exhausted state revealed a man confused and angry with his own emotions.

Sirius's voice broke the silence and he mumbled, leaning up off the table, "I'm sorry, I need another drink."

"No!" Hermione scolded, grabbing her wand from her pocket before he moved, aiming it at his chest.

She didn't want to resort to taking out her wand on him, but felt no other way to control him. He didn't even know himself, as he stared down at the tip of her wand, without any medium of defense. A worn man stood before her, his arms lifted and palms exposed to show her he was unarmed and wrong. His mouth frowned in a pained grimace and his eyes were empty of life. Sirius Black still stood there, but it was more just the shell of a man that was battling with the now. His health had returned, but life was still trying to figure him out.

"I just don't feel right, Hermione." He finally confessed, admitting her prognosis. "I need to see Harry, that's why I came back. It's all for him and now it's like...I don't know where I belong. This shit in my head is going round and round and it's hard to determine what makes sense..."

Sirius spoke, not necessarily to her, but to anyone that could hear him. Like a shameful puppy, his eyes glanced up to her under hooded lids like he were to receive another scolding. He was so lost and all he wanted was reassurance that he was in the right place...home.

"I'm just so..." He

"Tired." She simply answered for him, lowering her wand.

Hermione watched with sincere eyes, and prepared herself to do something daring. She studied him so closely since he'd returned that she wanted so desperately to touch him. Suppressing the ridiculous thoughts of a puppy dog crush when she was fifteen, she considered her move to be only that of assistance.

Upon answering for him, nailing the right word on the head that perfectly expressed his dilemma, he caught something in her. It wasn't enough to stir him, but he caught a glimmer in her eye that told him she wasn't there to belittle him, but to comfort him. A face he'd never forgotten, but never knew offered him peace in just the energy she radiated.

Hermione slowly moved closer to him, her pulse rate increasing with each brave step that she took. He wasn't sure what it was she was doing, but the idea of someone close settled him. With the anticipation of a painful burn at the slightest touch, she made a bold move to lift her arms towards his neck and opened her comforting offer to him. Like a warm friend, Sirius basked in the physical contact and wrapped his arms around her slender waist.

Hermione welcomed him to embrace her, knowing that it was the only thing she could offer him that was strong enough to take him without magic. Her arms held firmly around his neck, she rested her chin on his shoulder and let his scent fill her senses like a forbidden temptation. Here she was trying to console someone in need, someone who was searching, and found herself selfishly taking a simple pleasure of feeling him close against her.

It worked both ways. The feeling of a woman's body in his arms again, sparked something dangerous in the back of his mind. His tense muscles seemed to relax, taking on a safer charm and a tiny voice reminded him that this was just a platonic hug. However, the sensation of her bosom pressed tightly against him was so inviting, he cared not to release her anytime soon. He felt the soothing warmth radiating off of Hermione's body like sober energy, that he wondered why they hadn't done this before. She leaned against his chest like an old lover wanting to confide in him and heard her gentle breathing by his ear. It soothed him to know and feel her energy was accepting him and out of all the hangover potions he knew in the world, this by far, was the most sobering.

Her soft curls grazed his cheek and he found himself tilting his face into them, taking in their tranquil scent like a forgotten memory. She smelled of pleasing fragrant soaps that told him that she wasn't doing it to impress _him_, but showing him sincerity. His hold on her tightened and with a bold move, he slid his hands higher on her back, so that he might properly hug her as a woman and not as a confidante.

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as his hands explored her back, but tucked it away as nothing more than using her for support. His strong hands and long fingers rubbed her back gently, almost lovingly, and she tried to envision herself anywhere but right there, feeling like she did. Her cheeks warmed foolishly with the sensation of being wrapped in his arms, so she gestured to pull away. Without hesitation, he let her go freely and rested his hands safely on her hips.

She found herself still in his hold and rather than pull away completely, she held her hands on his shoulders. The air between them felt a little awkward, but she managed a small half grin and looked into his eyes, hoping to see an improved change.

He braved her pretty face as she ducked her head to see his and lifted his dark eyes to her bright ones. Acknowledging her, he gently squeezed her waist under his hold and slowly nodded his appreciation, feeling relatively better than he did before she stepped into his personal space.

"Thank you," he whispered to her.

She allowed a slow smile to creep completely over her lips and saw that he was genuinely thankful she made the intimate contact with him. "You're welcome, Sirius."

When his eyes closed upon hearing her soothing voice, she couldn't help but admire his handsome aged face. Shadowed cheeks accented a perfectly chiseled nose, small little lines kissed the corners of his eyes bearing black eyelashes that all together he depicted the perfect fallen dark angel. In her moment of his weakness, her eyes flicked dangerously to his lips, finding temptation to touch them. Like an unknown hunger, she suppressed the urge and took a step back from him, protecting herself from herself.

Her subtle movement alerted him of her attempted departure and he opened his eyes. He managed a slight curve of his lips, hinting a thankful smile. The act of kindness from a woman helped him, but it pained him to know he couldn't take it any further than that of a friend wishing to help. This was Hermione and he could not, under any circumstances, forget himself.

_But, sometimes he spoke before thinking._

"Feel free to do that again." He whispered, already forgetting.

Her eyes met his with mere innocence in mind, but Sirius couldn't help delve into her depths and search, prod, whisper. It was taboo to not believe this was strictly platonic.

She stepped further back, leaving her temptation behind, "You too."

Sirius just watched her. He watched her body move away from his grasp, questioning the sobriety of his mental state. She vacated the kitchen, trusting him not to retrieve the bottle that called to him like a beacon of a holy grail.

He lifted his now clammy hands up to rub his face to relieve the stress. She offered him a simple act of kindness and his male instincts began to take control of his imagination. _Don't even think of it. _


	6. Anyone Around

_A note from Serade Black: Thank you to those that gave me honest reviews, that I took a lot more care in writing this chapter. I was given good advice from a reader and I love her for it! The last chapter was not a favorite of mine, but yet it had to be published to push the story along._

_The chemistry is starting to heat up a little, that I promise. Just be patient with me, give me theories and ideas and we'll get along nicely._

_Thank you HP Lexicon for your useful knowledge from time to time. _

_SB_

**Ch. 6 "Anyone Home"**

"Hermione, what are you doing, love? Use magic, for crying out loud!" Sirius bellowed, coming down the stairs.

He passed the vacant spot where his mother's portrait used to hang and gave it a light punch, beginning a new "good luck" habit. There wasn't a word to express his undying gratitude to Hermione for removing that portrait. The euphoric feeling of knowing he'd never have to hear that vile woman screeching ever again, settled well in him and he was just showing his appreciation.

Hermione was standing on a rickety old chair that appeared to be three times as old as her grandmother. With an arm just not long enough, she reached as high as she could with a feather duster, brushing off the top of the heavy velvet curtains. She heard him coming behind her and before she could protest, he had his hands around her waist, ready to catch her should she fall.

Upon gripping her firmly, he averted his eyes from meeting her perfect backside in his sightline. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his hands higher to pick her up and lift her down from the chair to avoid further temptation.

"Sirius, I'm fine. I do this all the time. I don't like to use magic for every little thing." She huffed, replacing the chair to its proper placement behind the large oak desk.

"Why not? Can't remember the spells?" He ribbed, crossing his arms over his chest, mocking her.

She rolled her eyes at him, smacking him on the arm with the duster, "Right, I can't remember spells."

"You'd have so much more time if you used magic for the daily chores, love." He sung, going over to straighten a picture that was uneven, "Remus back, yet?"

"No," she answered, beginning to dust off the top of the desk as she saw a few dust bunnies piling behind a framed picture of Harry and Ron. "Why? Do I make you nervous, being here alone with me?"

He quirked an eyebrow and feigned surprise, "Yes, that's it."

She shook her head, "Might as well get used to it. Remus goes away every month."

Hermione continued her pursuit of dusting, making sure she touched every area on the desktop.

"Miss Granger," he began with a voice so smooth it would tear you up, "My, my, aren't we full of ourselves."

"Well, isn't that calling the kettle Black?" She giggled, quite chuffed with her own joke.

Sirius felt no reason to respond to her rather poor joke and continued to let her go about with her chores. She padded around on her bare feet, dusting off whatever tickled her fancy, throwing subtle glances his way every now and then just to see him watching her. Her skin burned with the sensation that he was targeting her like game.

Grinning from ear to ear, Sirius indeed watched her carefully move about the living room like he didn't exist. Occupying herself with what appeared to be a normal routine amongst what remained of his family house; dusting behind small statues that sat on age old tables.

"Do you always get this feisty when you're alone?" He probed, tilting his head to the side, giving him that boyish innocence with the way his hair flipped in his face.

Whirling around on her foot in a lighthearted style, she avoided looking anywhere but at him. Careful not to sneak one too many glances his way; she looked around to see if there wasn't anything she could get to.

"You're just getting in my way now, Black."

Like a valiant knight, he dramatically stepped aside so she could walk past him as her eyes narrowed in on another undusted antique. He ushered his arms to the side to present the unaffected furniture.

"By all means, Miss Granger, I hate to be a burden and disrupt your normal routine." He added sardonically.

Lifting her chin high and proud like a snobby aristocrat, she bustled past him towards a heavily laden bookshelf, compiled of some of her favorite volumes of potions that replaced Dark Arts books quite sometime ago. She pushed the spine of a book in, showing him her particular attention to detail and dusted away virtually uninterested in her company.

"One forgets so soon whose house she cleans." Sirius baited with a low, Snape-like drawl.

"Remember, Harry owns this house now and he's allowed me to live here, too. So, I guess things have changed and you're just going to have to accept it." She mocked with sweet sarcasm dripping from her lips like syrup.

_She was asking for it._

When she looked away from him, giving her attention back to the bookshelf, he slowly pulled his wand from his pants pocket.

Completely undetected, he whispered, "Accio duster!"

The flying sensation from her hand caught her surprised. She immediately whirled around to see him standing there, quite proud of himself, holding the duster like a dangled carrot. It only took her a second to pull out her own wand and lean over, preparing for a proper challenge. Sirius watched the young witch squint her eyes on him, concentrating and anticipating every move he made, as a smirk playfully lifted over her lips.

Sirius sunk down into the proper dueling stance: wand extended and his hand free, up behind him. It had been ages, since he'd played these games with another and he gave himself a light chuckle that it was going to be very interesting throwing hexes with her.

Circling him like a predatory tiger, Hermione bit her lip and carefully side-stepped one foot over the other. She watched him cautiously, appearing quite relaxed, but ready to strike. Old hexes from the school yard came to mind, but she knew he had something else up his sleeve. She tried to narrow her focus and extend any bit of her Divination lessons that might tune her into what he was thinking. Patiently, she waited him out.

Like an old shoot-out in the muggle old west, his hand twitched with the anticipation of who was going to draw first. The house was silent, only light murmurings of portraits watching the two from nearby frames on the walls whispered their bets, making predictions of who was going to attack first.

So far, the bets were on Hermione. The two duelists heard the portrait of Pollux Black calling others over to his frame, so that they might get a better view when the muggleborn hexed him good and deserving.

"Thanks for taking my side, grandfather!" Sirius shouted aloud, stunned that even his own kin was gambling against him.

"Sorry boy, as much as I hate to say it, this girl's pretty clever. I've seen her move pretty quickly on Harry when he steps out of line. Besides, she was one of Dumbledore's favorites." Pollux explained, taking a few galleons on the side for a worthy bet between the two duelers.

Hermione's eyes gleamed as she heard the banter between Blacks, that for a split second it distracted her enough that Sirius caught her first. With the easiest of spells, Hermione was hurled head over heels, just like they did to Snape as a youth. She let out a small yelp and found herself floating in mid air, upside down.

"Works every time," he chuffed, tossing the duster away, but keeping his wand extended.

"Sneaky." Pollux confirmed, nodding his head in approval.

"Sirius, fine, you win. Let me down!" She playfully demanded.

Arrogance filled his blood once again and he slowly stepped closer to observe her. She grit her teeth at him in a lighthearted manner, keeping her own wand extended on him. Not that she had any sort of advantage when she was trying desperately to keep her sweater from flying up at the same time.

"This might get interesting if I immobilized both your hands," he winked, clucking his tongue and encouraging the old thoughts of Sirius Black.

She yelled out his name in frustration, trying to stifle her sneaking laughter as she watched his eyes travel up the length of her body like that of an animal about to devour it's prey. The smile she gave him, showing that she was going to submit, weakened him enough to let her down with a quick flick of the wrist.

"Expelliarmus!" She cast, once her feet safely touched the ground.

Sirius never had a chance to retaliate, before his wand was sent flying away from his hands. With her wand holding him at point now, she bit her lower lip as she watched his head bow in temporary defeat.

_She was good._

"Never trust a witch! Especially a muggleborn." Pollux chimed in, as if he knew all along that eventually Hermione was going to best him.

"Hermione, let's call it a draw. Don't do anything you're going to regret."

Sirius tried to negotiate peacefully, with his hands up in the air, unarmed. His eyes flickered to the location of his wand that lay out of reach under the coffee table. He wasn't going to give up so easily just yet, and as his eyes returned to her chocolate ones, he nearly had to shake himself from her gaze.

Her lips pursed in query, surveying the situation closely. With a lifted chin and mocking tone she added, "I don't know. You nearly got a peek, so maybe I should nearly get a peek."

"Oh love, you don't need to cast anything on me to show you that!" He baited, moving his hands to the zipper on his jeans, teasing to reveal himself to her.

Gasping her protest, she lost all train of concentration and lowered her wand. He took advantage of her moment of weakness and went for her the old fashioned way: by throwing both arms around her waist and trying to tackle her to the ground.

With a graceful take-down, she fought and squirmed, begging for him not to tickle her. Her laughter filled the house, creating quite a stir amongst the unsuspecting portraits in other rooms. Curious minds came downstairs to watch the activity between the two wrestling children in the living room.

Between grunts and growls and a few near misses of the loss of a limb, Sirius finally freed her hand of her wand and threw it to the side.

"Try to use magic to get you out of this now, Granger!" He taunted, finding her Achilles' heel, literally at the bottom of her bare feet.

"No, Sirius! That's unfair!" She screamed out, pulling his arms away from her most tender spot.

Hermione cried out in comical agony, but his strength was too much for her to compete with. She hated the idea of causing physical pain to him, but she was a desperate woman about to have her feet tickled and he left her with no other choice. With a quick jab in the ribs, he howled in pain, milking it for all it was worth. She couldn't trust him at this point and she scrambled up off the floor, aiming for the stairs.

Like a skittish animal about to be captured, she scampered up the stairway with the elegance of an elephant on roller skates. Pounding down on every step, she heard him closing in on her laughing as she hurried to find sanctuary. His name fell from her lips profusely, demanding that he stop playing around or he'd regret it. But, as his fingers reached out and just grazed the back of her sweater, she realized he was too close with no intention of stopping.

The first door at the top of the stairs was Harry's room and she bolted on through it, falling on an embarrassing thump. Scurrying off the floor like one of Ron's defenses to a boggart, she tried with all her might to close the door on Sirius. She neglected to remind herself that this was the man that escaped both Azkaban and the Department of Mysteries, so a normal bedroom door was not going to keep him out. He pressed on through like it was made of fabric and playfully growled at her, once he got inside. She held her hands up as she giggled, using only her smile as a defense mechanism. It got her nowhere and he managed to corner her up against the desk, next to an old broomstick Harry kept at home.

With one last pathetic attempt, Hermione pressed against his strong body with her shoulder, but was immediately captured and pushed down to the floor. His hands were swift and quick and his knee held her legs down, just in case she started to kick. He managed to find her weak spots around her waist, sneaking his hands under her sweater so that he might actually tickle tender flesh.

Hermione howled with laughter, resorting to biting his shoulder in her struggle to hopelessly fight back. Sirius chuckled under his breath, quite amused by her agitation at being bested, but not once letting up. He learned his lesson the hard way.

Sadly, he was just too strong for her and it was getting rather sad. Her adrenaline was pumping like an ox and the harder she fought, the harder he pushed against her. That alone, was worth submitting. She wiggled and squirmed until every limb of hers was restrained and finally stopped nipping at his shoulder like a rabid animal, when it just starting to get silly.

"You are a pistol!" His voice was breathless, like after a vigorous work-out.

After all her efforts were regarded as pointless, she finally stopped squirming and just let him pin her arms over her head. She closed her eyes and smiled, absolutely exhausted and out of breath from their sudden grade school recess. Though she seemed to be relaxing under his grip, he decided to gamble the risk of easing his strength against her, but in no way regarding her as any kind of innocence, in case she started up again.

He hovered over her, gently pressing his knee over her legs and held her wrists down with hardly and strength. He was out of breath as well, nearly panting, but smiled down at her as she surrendered. Hermione opened her eyes to his, pleasantly pleased to see him happy and smiling. Noticing the lack of space between them, she noted how dangerously close he was. She felt the heat of his breath against her throat and his calloused hands around her wrists. The length of his body covered hers and she felt his hips pushed against her in a suggestive manner. The tips of his hair tickled her cheek and his mouth was mere inches from hers.

_Just a few more inches and he would have_…

Sirius felt her chest heaving under his and leaned in closer. His eyes were flickering over those perfect rosebud lips as he noticed them part for him in anticipation. Around them he heard nothing but the sound of their breath in the shade-drawn room.

The tiny voice of Hermione's mother spoke to her from the back of her memory bank, forever warning her about men like Sirius. Good advice, she thought, but for some reason she couldn't quite make out her mother's words all that clearly. Not when staring into his eyes made her feel absolutely immobile and any place where he had touched her skin, felt like it was on fire.

He taunted her one last time and whispered breathless, "I win."

Her last breath caught in her throat as she prepared herself for him to come in. She gazed at him intently with hooded eyes, as if he could make her do anything he wanted. Her light panting subsided and all she could think of were the sounds of her heartbeat vibrating in her ears. She could almost tell what his tongue taste like with how severely close he was. For him to kiss her right now would be heaven.

Instead, she whispered a nervous reply, "Let's call it a draw."

This time his lips parted with the intensity of her gaze. His arms and legs still kept her restrained, but he wondered why every acute sense was at their peek with her. He baited breath sounded like heavy panting, her hands were as soft as silk, his eyes burned back into her like he'd never seen anything like her before.

Her thighs felt comforting against his, like they would make an absolute perfect fit if their clothes weren't in the way. Her bosom was pushed up against his chest and though he might have lowered himself heavier on her, she felt good lying underneath him. He felt her fingers beginning to lightly stroke his hands as they held her gently, and her subtle gesture was about to send him reeling. She had rendered him speechless and whatever was about to leave his lips, hers parted in the most inviting fashion. Swallowing to regain a little more control of his imagination, his eyes darted back and forth between hers in a desperate search. He was unsure what it was he should do, but looked for a signal that he should give her that kiss they were poised for.

At least two inches separated them from making a completely irrational decision, or making the best of the situation. The tension in the room was so thick, it could easily have been carved right through. The electricity between them was unexplainable, but could only be compared as some kind of "awakening" somewhere deep in their subconscious. Either way, both of them felt something churning in their stomach over what they were contemplating and neither one knew how to really read the others' mind.

Just the sound of the room settling around them filled their ears, alongside of the restless breathing that still escaped both of their lips as the two inch gap turned into less than an inch.

"Hello?! I'm home!" Harry shouted from downstairs, slamming the door behind him.

With a loud thump, he dropped his heavy worn out quidditch bag down at his feet, as he waited for someone to greet him.

"Anyone around?"


	7. A Reunion of Emotions

_A note from Serade Black: Alas, we continue on. Thanks, as always, to the reviews and comments I've gotten. I assure you, more will be entwined with the plot, as well as more from the Snarky potions professor._

_Smut shall come, but ground work first! Enjoy!_

**Ch. 7** **"A REUNION OF EMOTIONS"**

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place seemed to be settled for the late afternoon. The clock in the living room ticked low and constant. The portraits seemed to be milling about, returning from various visits all over the house. No one was heard on the above floors and the place seemed so still, you'd think it was frozen to its foundation.

Harry ventured in further from the foyer, poking his head into the living room to check for any of its occupants. Assuming that he was all by himself, the star Seeker kicked his bag out of the doorway and walked towards the kitchen to feed the little pain called hunger who was presently scratching Harry's insides.

Back upstairs in Harry's bedroom, the electricity between Sirius and Hermione dulled the moment another voice was heard from downstairs. Turning away from her captor, Hermione turned her face towards the doorway and tried to listen carefully to whoever had entered the house. The two of them stilled like statues, waiting to hear if the voice was traveling up the stairs, that they might be walked in on.

The visitor's voice rang out again and Hermione jolted when she recognized it instantly. As if a light bulb had just been turned on in the room, Hermione was immediately aware of their suggestive positioning and wiggled underneath Sirius, trying to free herself.

"It's Harry!" She whispered urgently.

Regaining his senses from his trance over the moment of holding her down beneath him, Sirius followed suit and also recognized Harry's voice breaking the silence of the house. He gave himself a mental shake, swallowing hard as his throat seemed to be quite dry over his hypnotism. He lifted his body off of Hermione and watched how quickly she scurried off the floor, afraid of being caught.

Sirius had to agree that the intense moment fizzled out quite abruptly, as if they had just been discovered by peeping chaperones. He glanced over at Hermione with a tinge of guilt that he had put them in such a compromising position; he waited to see if she was going to say anything regarding it. Instead, she just fixed her shirt and hair and straightened her shoulders to embrace the truth of the situation, should they be discovered hiding in Harry's bedroom.

Before she could grab the handle to escape the room, nearly unscathed, Sirius reached out and spun her around to face him. His mind was a complete blank, with nothing intelligent to say to explain the situation. Part of him felt ashamed, like he should never have put her, of all people, in any kind of compromising situation like he had. It was he who instigated the child's play; it was he who forced her down beneath him in an innocent effort to restrain her.

He wasn't sure what to say as his guilty eyes met hers, believing that he needed to make an excuse for allowing them such horseplay. He wanted to give her some kind of reason for what just happened, but she shook her head. By closing her eyes and avoiding the uncomfortable explanation, she warned him not to think on it without any words.

With hesitant eyes and an unsteady voice, she prepared him for Harry's introduction, "Let me go down first. I'll take him into the kitchen and then you come down a few minutes after."

He hoped she might have said something, anything, but that. With the immediate mood change and Harry milling around below, it brought them back to the honest reality of who they were. If there was a way to replay what had just transpired between them, he would. If he could go back just two minutes earlier and not have hesitated to kiss her, he would have done that too. But, as she whirled back around and left him standing there in Harry's room, alone with his thoughts, he was sure it was just wrong to have felt that way.

_Hermione Granger was not one to play with, no matter how long it'd been since you'd touched female flesh. _

For one thing, she was too headstrong. Sirius couldn't get involved with anyone that was more interested in warding off dust bunnies, rather than the latest line of witch fashions. Surely, his kind of girl would require more maintenance, more glamour, and more attention to her details. Someone as independent, intelligent, soft spoken and brash like Hermione would never make a good match for him. _Would she?_

Hermione rushed out of the bedroom and descended down the stairs in a flurry, taking them two at a time. The air in the room was getting difficult to breathe, the more she looked into Sirius's worried eyes. Whatever had just transpired between them was surely just a natural reaction between two exhausted people. The fact that he had acquired the aging good looks of something close to perfection was not the point. Neither was the fact that she just happened to be single and available, while her Death Eater ex-boyfriend was committed to other obligations.

Meeting the last stair, Hermione rounded on the banister and managed to catch Harry's backside disappearing into the kitchen.

_This is insane!_

The brainy witch found the situation ridiculous, so much so that she forced herself to stop for a moment, take a deep breath and prepare herself to see Harry. She felt a tingling sensation in her fingers as she tried to focus her way out of picturing the way his hair fell into his dark eyes as he hovered over her like a gothic angel. She swallowed hard as she remembered his lips perfectly puckered like a taunting dessert and try all she could, but her heart was still fluttering in her chest like a caged bird as she rekindled the thoughts of a meaningless puppy dog crush.

How she remembered hearing the stories of him as a young marauder with Harry's dad and Remus. His reputation was legendary with his old prowling ways, breaking the hearts of so many girls. When the Order was reborn in her fifth year, she remembered being shooed away like a child by Molly Weasley, forbidding her to hear all the dangerous plans they had in mind. How she would always raise her chin higher, depicting a much older, more mature witch than the others, just so that the adults might see her as more. She remembered a few friendly smirks and nods from Sirius back then, when Molly used to pester them for knowing too much for their own ages. How Sirius used to bait Hermione, instigating a few good rows when the time called for it, testing her young fifteen year old limits. She remembered the small fluttering sensation, whenever he'd look at her with those flirting eyes, knowing perfectly well that were nothing but an innocent old habit he was never able to break.

Now a grown woman, and Sirius still that same person she remembered, the stakes were much different. They were fighting on the same side, sitting at the same meetings and acting as fellow Order members. Things were all the same, but now she was different. She was now twenty-one year old Hermione Granger and he was still thirty-six year old Sirius Black. He'd been cheated six years time falling behind the Veil, but he didn't gain six years of age. He still looked like a man hitting his thirties, still held the spunk of a man in his early twenties, and held the charm of a well versed man in his forties.

She wasn't able to give herself a strong enough mental shake to disregard the sensation of a presence looking down at her. Evading her driven thoughts, her eyes traveled back up the stairs to a shadowed figure leaning over the top of the railing. That warm nervous feeling settled in her stomach once again and she was drawn to his energy like a moth to a flame. She averted her eyes from his magnetic attraction as he stood over her hidden behind poor lighting; allowing naughty _impure_ thoughts to fill her imagination. With one more vein attempt to compose herself, she took another calming breath before going into the kitchen and greeting her best friend.

"Hi, Hermione! I'm sorry I'm home so late, it's a long story." The scarred boy explained, once he heard his name called through the kitchen door.

Harry didn't even have a chance to continue as he felt her arms wrap around him tightly. Feeling him in her arms couldn't erase the guilt that was already settling in her, for what almost happened between she and his godfather. Though nothing had transpired, she couldn't help but feel that sense of betrayal. Emotions that were so foreign to Hermione, she wouldn't have been able to distinguish which were guilty acts of pleasure and which were morally wrong. After all, Sirius still remained Harry's god _father._

All reservations aside, an exhilarating rush filled her to have Harry back under that roof again. Like a proper den mother, she never received enough owls, never really knew if he wasn't in peril, or eating enough. She understood that his personal time was limited, and not counting fireplace visits from work, Grimmauld Place barely heard from him at all when he was away.

"It doesn't matter. You're home now. You can tell me later." She reluctantly pulled away from him, trying to busy herself with something to clear her mind. "Let me make you some lunch."

Harry settled back and watched Hermione bustle around in the kitchen, taking down pots and pans to prepare whatever concoction she was going to brew. He helped himself to a butter beer and leaned against the counter to make small talk with her as she worked.

"So, what's this big surprise you have for me?" Harry inquired, nearly forgetting about the urgent trip home.

"Hello, Harry."

Sirius had quietly slipped into the kitchen unnoticed, setting his eyes bright on the James look-a-like. He smiled a big ear to ear grin, when he first walked in to see the two interacting, but seeing Harry all grown up, standing in his own skin, saddened him that he hadn't been there for all the important moments, like James had asked him to. There was no sense in dwelling on the past, nor was there anyway to turn back a time turner and have no one notice. Harry was a grown man, dealing with adult problems and though Sirius had not been in his life as much as he had wanted, it was a new day.

The kitchen was filled with small tinkering sounds, that Harry hadn't even heard Sirius coming into the room. He remained oblivious to all that didn't involve lunch and was smiling contently as he appreciated being home, again. He had a smile affixed to his face, talking to Hermione casually, but as he looked over to the one calling his name, his face fell as fast as one could take a breath. The color had flushed out of his face at a sickening speed, his eyes got as big as apples and his jaw hung open like a fish gasping for water.

Remembering to breathe, he turned to Hermione to see if she had heard his voice in the room as well. She was usually the one to rationalize things when it started to get a little blurry and he anxiously awaited her response. He saw her bite her lower lip and glance back at him, restraining her glee.

Hermione was too weak at that moment to really put on a strong enough act to convince him otherwise and she felt her insides warm with the new sensation Sirius was giving her, now aimed at Harry. A shaking hand lifted to her mouth, hiding half her face and turning to finally face him.

"He's real, Harry. He's not a ghost." She informed confidently.

_He's definitely flesh and blood._

After hearing her confirmation that he wasn't a loon, Harry jerked his head back in the direction of Sirius. Not yet feeling comfortable enough to speak, he watched as the exact memory of his godfather hesitantly approached him like a timid animal, he didn't wish to frighten away. Harry's eyes couldn't believe that the being before him wasn't a ghost and he hesitantly awaited the cruel reality once he made contact and the vapor of Sirius was going to disappear at his fingertips.

Sirius finally reached Harry after slow, careful steps and extended a hand for him to take, to prove he was really standing there in the haunting little kitchen.

As if he could feel every emotion of disappointment, love, loss, hope, excitement, and anxiousness all at one time, Harry slammed himself into Sirius with arms as strong as telephone poles nearly taking him down to the floor. Sirius clutched onto him with all his will, ducking his head into his shoulder to mask the sensitive emotions beginning to well up inside of him. Losing the last bit of control, Harry allowed himself to weaken in his grasp as he welcomed the father he never had, to finally return to him.

The powerful scene in the kitchen between the two men was enough to break Hermione, herself. She tried with all of her own to hold back tears so that she wouldn't come across like weeping Moaning Myrtle, but the moment caught her. She had known for so long, the pain that Harry had learned to deal with all these years with the loss of Sirius. Here he had been offered the next greatest thing, a secure home life, a father figure that loved him, nearly every answer he wanted to know about James and had it snatched away after only two precious years. It was a sick tease and there was no reason for it. Sure Sirius had made a bad decision to follow Harry to the Department of Mysteries that night, proving his loyalty and protecting his godson, having it land him into a pit of despair. But now, by the strangest of graces, Sirius Black returned a walking miracle that was going to stun the Ministry, rebuild his life and fight Voldemort once again.

It seemed like ages before the men let up to see the other's face, now both tear stricken. Neither one could believe that they were looking at each other again, for the first time in six years. You could almost see the twinkle in Sirius's eye as he beamed down at Harry, like a proud father and rustled up his hair, rekindling the last memories of him when he was only fifteen.

Hermione wiped off embarrassing tears with the sleeve of her shirt as they escaped down her cheeks. She turned around to hide wet eyes and continued on with the preparations of lunch.

An hour later, the trio's stomachs were full, empty butter beer bottles sat on the table and Harry was completely up to date with Sirius's progress.

"As soon as Remus is back, we're making an appointment with the Ministry." Hermione added, picking up the empty plates from lunch to start the charmed dish scrubber on the dishes.

"I'm coming." Harry nodded, making his presence definite while biting into a cookie. "It took me so long to get here, because they'd been intercepting owls. The teams' got a couple of crazy quidditch hooligans, or stalkers, that have been sending things via owls to assure them the best seats for the matches. They charm a letter to be a portkey and when we answer the owls, their portkey is already in place. Pretty clever, actually. It worked once or twice for them, until security caught on. So, all our correspondence has been rather tardy. I got your owl just two days ago."

"And how long are you home for?" Sirius asked, breaking the silence with his chair as it scraped across the floor, preparing to balance on two legs.

"Well, I'll stay and let the other seeker play my matches until your meeting is over. But, I'll be home right before Christmas." Harry answered, looking away to think of his personal calendar.

Sirius pushed back from the table and managed a decent balancing act on the ancient chair as he calculated Harry's absence. "So, you'll be back for the holidays in a month?"

As much as Sirius wanted to see more of Harry, he had no choice but to accept that he had his own life. One couldn't stop time, he wasn't about to ask Harry to give up all that he'd worked for to become one of the greatest seekers to play professional quidditch. The fact of the matter was he was just going to have to learn to adjust to this chapter of life that he'd been dealt with.

"Hermione will keep you company until I come home. If you two promise not to kill each other." Harry teased, throwing an unknowing glance back at Hermione as she returned to the table.

"I won't promise anything." She answered coy, cupping her hands around a fresh tea cup, breathing in the steam as it met her cheeks.

Keeping all attention on the warm beverage before her, Hermione tried to hide the flush of her cheeks once Harry mentioned keeping Sirius company. Had he only known what had just transpired between the two of them, he may have chosen different words.

Sirius glanced over at the quiet young witch and if his eyes weren't mistaken, he saw a slight hue of pink grace her cheeks. Immediately, the poor thoughts of Harry's absence seemed to melt away with the idea he might have had a hand at making her blush. Quickly averting his eyes from her before she took notice, he found himself quite elated with the secret charm he allowed to linger over her and his ego was once again inflated.

* * *

A few days later, and the full moon had passed, Sirius finally had his appointment set up with the Ministry. The tension was high around the house over the anticipated results of the examination. When Hermione had brought forth the accusation that Sirius Black had returned from the Veil, the Department of Mysterious did all but bite their lip as they contained their amusement. It was explained to her that the Veil had always been under strict surveillance and for anyone to just "walk out", as it was explained in her own words, would be preposterous. There were guards on duty around the clock and they would have certainly notice if someone just walked out of Ministry offices.

"Believe what you want, I'll bring him in to you." Hermione offered, holding her tongue for fear of unkind fierce words to leave her mouth.

The chuckling older man, that reminded one of a seedy Muggle politician, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his long nose as he sat behind his tall podium. He clucked his tongue to display his disinterest in her specimen.

"Miss Granger, had Black returned those three weeks ago, like you said, it would have been in your best interests to have brought him forth immediately following his arrival. Harboring a fugitive is a felony." His voice purred with a mocking reminder.

For nearly three seconds, Hermione studied his choice of words carefully, racking her brain for a loop hole in that system. Surely they knew she was aware of such a crime, and both she and Remus were to be held accountable for it, but her position in the Ministry was a strong one. Before she let at least one day pass since Sirius's arrival, she read it plainly in black and white that anyone harboring a fugitive was, indeed, guilty. However, with no surprise to her, she found said loop hole – Sirius was a free man.

The young brainy witch grew tired of the older man's cynical manner and shook her head in agreement to pacify him. With a narrow brow and a slight smirk she nodded her head for him.

"I'm well versed in the law, sir. Had I been harboring a fugitive, I would be held responsible for allowing him to dwell at my residence." She slung her messenger bag over her shoulder as she rose to return to her own department. With one more glance back before she pushed open the door, she added, "I'll be sure to bring Sirius's freedom papers with me."


	8. A Specimen at the Dept of Mysteries

_A note from Serade Black: Alas, another long chapter. This one took some time to tinker out, with what all the holidays and such. Now, though some of you are ever so anxious to move the story on, believe me, I'm with ya! I've written this story chapters ahead, more like a working outline you could say, where I've been able to punch in different details and such here and there when/where needed. It's a new format for me to "brainstorm". There is more to this story, I haven't left Snape behind for all of you waiting for him to reappear. He will be playing a key factor in the plot, however I find that building it all up makes a much better read._

_Enjoy and keep those comments coming – both good and the bad! _

_SB_

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_Ch. 8_ – **The Specimen of the Department of Mysteries**

The sneaking rays of early dawn invaded number 12 Grimmauld Place like a quiet siege. Not a mouse stirred in the hidden cracks of the centuries old building, just its occupants preparing for the day's events ahead of them. It was _the_ day. Through the long hallway, down the creaky stairs, passed the ancient tapestry hung against the wall that still billowed when anyone walked by like a ghost on cue, you could hear Remus cursing under his breath.

The enchanted china seemed to be starting a mutiny against the common breakfast. Crockery so delicate did not wish to be bothered by the mere meal of eggs and bacon, as it expected to display fine delicacies of France, Germany and the States; not some common, barn-grown simpleton food.

Remus's defeated face scowled towards the dishes and it left him no choice but to take out his wand on the vivacious inanimate objects. Looking to his left and then to his right, he felt like John Wayne in the old corral and it was either him or them.

Back up in her room, Hermione checked her appearance in the mirror that morning, for what seemed like the twentieth time. Her unnatural obsessive compulsive disorder was out of general concern for the outcome of the meeting. She was apprehensive for her career, but again, under the circumstances, she hoped that her own reputation would save her from any discipline.

As for the matter of Sirius, she was curious what they would do to him. His charges with the Ministry had been dropped, but she feared that the healers in the Department of Mysteries might treat him like that of a lab rat, running so many unnecessary tests to assure them of his "existence". The thought of subjecting Sirius to a day, or life of such, disturbed her. What was she condemning him to?

Hopefully, once it was proven that he walked the earth with the rest of them; they would just let him go home. Indeed, it sounded almost too good to be true, because the Ministry had a strong reputation for being anything but consistent; resulting in her difficulty to predict their next move.

The birds perched outside her window and chirped the common morning sounds to announce the sun was sitting full, now. Time was passing her by and she still needed to go over her notes one last time, before they left the house to take Sirius to the Ministry.

She quietly shut the door to her bedroom, glancing towards the end of the hallway in the direction of Sirius's room, just to see if there was any obvious stirring coming in her direction. _Hopeful, but no._ Shaking her head of the sudden lapse of cloudiness, she saw no harm in going to speak to him alone, to wish him luck.

Carefully and quietly she softly walked the four doors down to his, glancing down to the foyer below her to catch Harry fixing his tie in the mirror. She swallowed calmly; trying to push back any thoughts that might extinguish that little pulse in her throat as she remembered the short moment in his room the day Harry arrived home. She could almost feel his warm breath over her face at that very moment as she neared his bedroom. The way he prepared those puckering lips for a kiss so taboo, they knew there would have been no turning back to the way things were. No more just Sirius and Hermione, Order members residing under the same roof. No, just two rather interesting individual spirits having shared a kiss that would have been so illicit, Mrs. Black herself would have risen from the dead to have another heart attack that he was kissing a muggleborn witch.

She felt her breath quickening as her heart started to beat like a fourteen-year-old experiencing their first sexual fantasy. Sirius's door was ajar, indicating he must have been in there. Composing herself and lifting a shaking hand to knock, Hermione breathed in a calming breath before entering the Lion's Den.

Her invitation was granted and she pushed open his door, just in time to see him fastening the last two buttons of his fitted dark purple shirt.

"Good morning, Hermione," he greeted. He stretched his neck as he adjusted the collar of his shirt as he secured a black tie around his neck.

As if she'd just walked in on him positively indecent, she was awestruck with how well he "cleaned up". He wore the purple button up shirt that fit every part of his lean chest, perfectly. Charcoal colored trousers sat low around his waist, thick black leather belt and black shoes tailored him better than the muggle GQ magazine.

Her muscles started to respond slowly as she forced herself over the threshold of his doorway, rather than stand there like a prepubescent girl seeing her first crush.

She was embarrassed with the way her eyes had dipped down his form for the third time and finally answered with a quiet, "Good morning." Hermione stepped closer to him to cover for her awkwardness by making herself useful with his tie. "Allow me."

Immediately, he let go of the ends of his tie, elated with her gesture to assist him in his dressing. With a friendly nod, showing his appreciation, he casually slipped his hands into his pockets as he gazed upon her inquisitive face.

"I wasn't sure if I would be able to say it later, so for now, good luck today," she began, flipping the tie through the first loop.

"Thank you," he mused.

"I know that you're going to stun them all today, and I will fight with all my power for them to let you home tonight."

Sirius closed his eyes and shook his head objectively, "They will do whatever it is they need to do, Hermione. Please don't fight my battle for me."

"Don't call it a battle," she continued to work on his tie, so it was nearly perfection. "You're a walking miracle, yet again! You never cease to amaze people, and to some, you're quite something."

He opened his mouth to protest, but he was quickly cut off by the persistent girl.

"I know I really don't need to be saying this to you, for fear that your head will get bigger, but I have to." He questioned her meaning of that, but allowed it to fade away in good spirit. "So, good luck today."

With a final tug, she had his tie perfectly straight without one crease out of place. As her hands left his tie, Sirius quickly reached out to hold them. His sudden contact wasn't something she was prepared for, as it was the first time they'd "touched" since their wrestling match a few days earlier. Feeling his coarse hands run over hers in such a sincere manner, forced her to gasp slightly and lift her eyes to his anxiously.

His gesture was slight, but he was still able to compel something to her that needed no words. In response to his mute appreciation and not letting her pull away, her lips parted to allow a breathy exhale.

"You'll be there today," he began slowly. He found himself losing his line of speech as he allowed himself a deeper submersion, both mentally and metaphorically. "You'll be there with Harry and Remus, so I'm sure everything will be fine," he covered.

Her eyes never left his, for fear the slightest blink might lose the moment they built up. Short black wisps of his hair fell into his sightlines as he spoke to her, adding boyish charm to the man standing before her. Looking so handsome in his formal clothes, dressed to impress, she could only imagine what he might have looked like in his school uniform in his years at Hogwarts. It was no wonder with the way he looked at women, that he went on breaking hearts of the girls he never noticed; Hermione just being another one.

He had rendered her speechless with his hypnotic eyes, causing her pulse rate to dramatically increase beyond necessity without a vigorous workout standing previous. His very hands on her skin made her legs weak and for a moment, she wondered if he wasn't chanting some sort of spell that might be the reason she felt so submissive.

Feeling daring for the moment, she pulled one hand away from his hold and raised it to touch his chiseled jaw, cradling his cheek sweetly in her palm. Sirius felt bold enough to respond to her thoughtful gesture and with ease, relaxed into her caress. Newfound courage lifted Hermione to lean in just slightly, watching him ever so meticulously for movement as her lips inched closer towards his. She swallowed lightly and detoured to the side of his cheek and laid a chaste kiss. His velvet smooth cheek with a slight scent of aftershave made it difficult to pull away and the aroma of his cologne was enough of an aphrodisiac to convince her to replay her move again, this time with no detour.

But, she couldn't. This was Sirius Black.

Her feet finally touched the floor again, after floating in his magnetic aura and she reluctantly pulled away to begin her retreat into the hallway. One more minute in that room with him and they were going to miss his appointment that morning.

Sirius hated to let her go without some sort of equal token, so before her hands were out of his reach, he moved in to tempt fate. Like a chivalrous knight of the fourteenth century, he lifted the back of her hand to his lips in such a valiant way, she thought her heart was about to beat right out of her chest.

The air in the room was thinning and Hermione needed to leave. Their subtle acts of admiration were crossing an undetermined line. Surely, anything further than a platonic relationship between the two and it might jeopardize friendships and relationships between Order members and long time friends. Sirius Black and Hermione Granger were not a likely couple, so the conclusion to the small advances they shared would see their end without any fireworks.

Before her cheeks flushed out her guilt, Hermione ducked her face out of view. Her legs felt like lead as they walked their way to the door and her hands seemed to burn from his touch. Finding the strength and willpower tucked way in the back of her mind, she didn't look back at him standing where she left him – watching her leave.

The door shut quietly, tighter than it had been before Hermione entered. The lock catching to keep it closed, signified an awakening that the moment had passed. Another questionable interlude that neither one was sure of, but somehow managed to control the urge to do something ridiculously drastic...like a kiss.

Back on the other side of the door, Sirius was as still as a corpse. The uneasy feeling of what transpired seemed just too dangerous to pursue, but ever more tempting to master. Never in his life could he recall such a game when he'd allow a woman to stir him up like this. Like a way he was so unclear about. Was the idea of her taboo? Was it only because of the time he'd spent away from the female flesh? Was it the convenience?

Though that answer was still undetermined, he had already once vocalized his premonition from years ago: she was the brightest witch of her age.

As an army of four, they arrived at the Ministry. They passed the fountain of different species of wizards spitting water out of their orifices and continued on. Hermione led them through the correct hallway, looking ahead of them as if the white floor led them on the pathway of no return. She hated the steps she was taking; knowing that whatever lied behind those white medical doors wasn't going to be pretty.

She knew that the second they pleaded for Sirius, they'd take him away and run numerous tests on him, just to prove his "return from the dead". The Veil in the Department of Mysteries was just that – a mystery. It remained an unsolved puzzle, where dedicated wizards have sacrificed themselves to go in, never to come out. Now, several years after he "fell" in, Sirius manages to escape and without a substantial story how.

The sterilized white washed room forced Hermione to fall back. Nothing carried the characteristics of another color, other than white, proving that this room was probably the Grand Puba of all medical testing areas. As much as Hermione bathed that morning, using all her botanical herbs and imported soaps, the feeling in the room still made her feel uncleansed and dirty. Not to mention, intimidated.

The medical instruments gleamed with a silver shine, as if they'd just been purchased from the manufacturer. Supplies lined the counters around them, with every piece of gauze, tongue depressor and cotton ball you could think of. There weren't many bottled herbs or potions lying around, confirming that those probably would have clashed with the room and otherwise kept them behind cabinets and closets.

Directly in the center of the room sat a lonely plain chair that looked a lot like one Hermione had seen in her parent's dentist office. Closer examination revealed that it was something far worse than your average doctor's chair. Magical medical instruments levitated above near the ceiling, ready to begin. A big spotlight hovered over it, ready to shine down on its examinee, where thick worn leather straps hung off the arms and another set down by the leg step.

Several wizards in their complimenting white robes slowly approached the foursome, as if they were frightened animals in the wild. Carefully, step by step, they neared Sirius who was off to the far left of the group. Two wizards dropped their jaws as they laid eyes on the celebrity face they knew so well from "wanted" posters, but gawked at him in a way that he still didn't prove to be taking up the same space they resided in.

A short, balding fat little wizard stepped forward, looking at them as if there were just too many normal ones to be in the room without proper attire. He furrowed his brow in concentration over how he was going to approach this, so they could get started on their much anticipated project.

"Hermione Granger, you've brought the specimen to be tested and proven to be amongst the living?" The fat little wizard asked. His voice somewhat nasal and overall a bit annoying.

"Specimen!" Sirius barked, nudging Remus in the ribs as he whispered, "Quacks."

"First off, please do not refer to him as a specimen. He's quite coherent and it appears that being through the Veil hasn't interrupted his social skills," Hermione stepped forward, placing herself between Sirius and the wizard doctors that looked upon him like a meal.

"Sorry, it's just very new to us. We're very anxious to begin the experi- I mean, examinations so you must excuse our manner," the doctor explained.

Hermione lifted a brow, questioning his slip of the tongue. She knew that seeing him stand behind her, like a real person, was something to gawk at, and not just because he looked so decadently handsome.

A settling hand rested on Hermione's shoulder and she turned her head to see Sirius nod. He knew that she was really crossing the line with her position in the Ministry and didn't want to make the situation worse.

"Mr. Black, if you would please step forward and take a seat in the chair, we will begin the examination," the wizard requested. He then turned his back to consult his fellow testing wizards.

Sirius gave a quick wink to Hermione, quietly thanking her for speaking out. Lifting his chin proudly, he felt no reason to show his hindering anxiety of those unfamiliar machines and passed her to go to the presented chair. As much as he agreed with Hermione with the objection to the terminology of specimen, a specimen he was.

"No bindings!" Harry shouted.

Harry immediately reacted once he saw a wizard kneeling before a now seated Sirius. His hands had just barely touched the leather straps to fastening them, when Harry's voice rang through the sterile room. Remus quickly stepped in to grab the young Potter's arm to calm him down, though he agreed with the young man entirely.

The balding wizard, the doctor in charge, seemed to be calling the shots and nodded his head to his colleague to refrain from using the safety precautions. They didn't wish to do anything that might upset Sirius to leave, causing some kind of spectacle that might result in a terrible tragedy. If any harm were to come to Sirius before the doctors had examined him, questions would still go unanswered.

With several nurses bustling around to begin other procedures, the balding wizard stepped forward to escort them out of the room.

"Can't one of us stay?" Harry begged. He was afraid to let his godfather out of his sight, for fear that he might disappear again. The last time they came here together, he left without him.

"I think not," snipped the balding wizard.

"It's all right, Harry. I'll be fine. I'll be out soon and we'll go get a pint. Go on, son," Sirius smoothed.

He was fearful that Harry might cause a scene. As brave as he pretended to be, the truth of the matter was that the sooner these wizards got their answers, the sooner he would be free to go home. So, for now, he had to play it cool and calm, go along with what they were going to instruct him to do. Later, only later, when there was a cool refreshing mug full of butterbeer, would he speak blasphemous about what the kooks had done to him.

Remus pulled Harry away like stubborn child. The scarred one took one last glace as the wizards closed the door on them the second they stepped over the threshold of the examining room. The image of Sirius got thinner and thinner through the crack of the door, hinting just a little light into the dark and dank hallway, and soon extinguished to a solid closed thud. The sound sealing Sirius's fate behind unfamiliar doors made them afraid that all this might not be true. A best friend gone again, a godfather whom he'd never had a chance to be with and a childhood crush that left someone wondering.

The remaining trio mentally depended on one another for the strength they needed to hold it together as they waited for a diagnosis. Harry seemed the weakest link of the small army and welcomed Hermione's gesture to console him.

It was that churning feeling of dread that they hated. They didn't know what the outcome of turning him over to the authorities was going to be. Even though his name had been cleared for quite sometime, he was still going to keep his fame for being the only one to come out of the Veil. Still remaining the godfather of the most infamous boy wizard there was, Remus couldn't help but wonder if a simple life was ever going to meet them, as long as Voldemort was on the rise.

What seemed like eternity, three hours had passed and the door to the white room finally opened. The balding wizard came out first, followed by Sirius, who was now buttoning up his shirt. His tie was draped casually around his neck and his shirt remained untucked. It was obvious that his need to impress had expired and he showed little interest to sacrifice comfort.

Sirius shook hands with the wizard and sauntered on past the three, pretending he didn't notice them waiting for him with hungry interest. The grin crossing over Remus's lips concluded his theory of his pompous friend receiving what could only be some kind of clean, clear bill of health. Padfoot's cocky walk down the hallway as he whistled a tune on his lips was sheer proof that he was milking it for all it was worth. With his shoulders straight back, the confident stride in his step, the hand running through his layered locks to loosen them from the hair product, you knew he could finally relax.

The three scrambled to their feet like spiders on roller skates, eager to catch up to him and find out details. Particulars that proved he was another walking miracle, a mystery still not really solved and someone they knew was going to be a spitfire, if they tried to keep him caged for further testing. The tests concluded that he was, once again, amongst the living. They told him he could collect his renewed ID and the first _ever_ certificate of Return from the Veil. He marked a new day in history, a new day in unconfirmed science and a new day for Rita Skeeter to divulge information to her hungry readers.

The harboring crew remained unscathed, since Sirius was no longer considered a criminal. Because of his law binding contract to Harry Potter as his guardian, they saw it, or rather Sirius convinced them, as it being an act of love to protect a family member. It was such a traumatic blow to the then fifteen-year-old Potter boy that it was out of the act of love to protect his last and only living relative. Of course, the fact that Harry hadn't been home at the time of their discovery was just a teensy weensy little detail regarding his arrival. Even Hermione smiled as Sirius admitted his little harmless white lie.

In the elevator, now surrounded with other Ministry employees starting their day, Sirius couldn't help but sing at the top of his lungs. Several morning arrivals made obvious faces of annoyance, seeing as the hour was entirely too early for anyone to be as cheerful. Harry, standing to his left and an arm draped around his godfather, only encouraged him by erupting in hearty laughter with every word sung. Hermione smiled, shaking her head, looking around the elevator to a few familiar faces while whispering excuses for the ruckus. Trying to not get caught up in the fever, the young witch did her best to bite her tongue and avert her eyes from peeking over at a spirited Sirius Black.

The movement of the elevator stopped and the doors opened up to Hermione's Auror floor. With a quick turn to walk backwards, she gave the group a wave good-bye. Even though the moment called for celebration, the world did not stop rotating and duty still called where she still had to go into work.

Seeing the finely curled head vacate the elevator in front of him, Sirius immediately stuck out his hand from allowing the doors to close. With a sudden nudge from behind, he nearly toppled out of the elevator as his fellow travelers were doing anything to prevent any more songs in the small confined room. Hearing his voice call out to her, Hermione turned just in time to see Sirius tripping over his own two feet and reached out to catch him as Remus and Harry followed.

On lookers on the floor stood up from behind their cubicles, peering over the short walls to see what the commotion was. Hermione glanced around nervously, not wanting all the attention on her, since she was still relatively a rookie in this department and still needed to save face.

"Hermione, you have to come and celebrate with us at the pub!" Sirius demanded.

His bellowing voice was anything from library volume and she smiled to those looking at them. As he gave her a pleading look with those beautiful dark eyes she found herself getting more and more lost in these days, she took his arm and led him away from the elevator doors. Without as much drama, Remus and Harry were close behind, insisting his request.

"I can't, I still have to come into work. They know I'm here for you, so I can't very well leave," she explained.

As if she just told a child that there was no Santa Claus, Sirius's face fell. To him, she was such a strong factor is proving his innocence, assisting in his survival, and nursing him back to his old self that it pained him to not have her with them on such a great day. Sirius was soon joined in his silent begging by Harry, who advised her that she completed their little circle and it was only fitting that she joined them.

"Harry, I can't. My boss is just down the hall there and I really don't want you three," she smiled and nodded at Remus, the innocent one. "Well, you two, to get me in trouble."

Sirius looked down the hall past her, "Where is he?"

"Sirius, no," she simply said as if it was completely out of the question.

With a playful shove, the handsome man that smelled of sage pushed past her and started down the corridor in search of someone with authority. Hermione felt her face pale as he overthrew her and advanced passed a few cubicles, peeking over them and waving to a few familiar faces.

Hermione trotted in front of him and pressed her hands against his chest, as if trying to hold back a stubborn mule. Her work had only just begun half a year earlier and still wasn't on the best terms with her superior to allow such "horseplay" happen at her fault. There was a time and place for when you could relax around your boss and the department, but that kind of professional respect took years to earn. Right now, as she pathetically pushed against a once hardened criminal, he chuckled deep under his breath as he received "high-fives" from a few fellow Order members. She appeared to amuse him and knew that the little spectacle they were creating meant probation for the next five years.

Auror Williamson had just heard the commotion about Sirius coming down the hall when he kicked down his feet from dictating a report to a quill and stood up to see him. A long time familiarity, he hadn't seen Sirius since they were boys at school. When he witnessed the cocky struck first hand, it was inevitable that even being incarcerated for 12 years in Azkaban, time was on his side.

Williamson held out his hand as Sirius walked down, hoping for a hearty shake, "Sirius, good to see you these years!"

"Williamson! You're here? That's brilliant," Sirius stopped to make a kind greeting.

Hermione gave Williamson a slight grin, showing how positively embarrassed she was over the scene and still tried subtly to steer Sirius back to the direction of the elevator. The men, however, carried on with a casual social conversation.

"What plans on the ladies, now that you're back? Shall they run in fear?" Williamson inquired, paying no attention to the rookie between them.

Sirius smiled widely and briefly glanced down at Hermione. A quick response came to mind that otherwise might stun the persistent witch long enough to distract her as he moved on to find her boss.

With a light chuckle, Sirius answered, "Well, you know me. Got to give the ladies a taste of my masculine meaty man log!"

Hermione froze, absolutely appalled and horrified to hear the worst words together in one sentence. The idea, the mental picture, was enough to actually make her forget what it was she was doing, as her imagination was about to regurgitate its last images. Her sickening frown was caught by Sirius who couldn't resist from giving her a hearty toothy grin that dripped with innocence.

As her imagination kept her distracted for a few more extra seconds, Sirius managed to slip past her and on down the hallway. Her resistance was futile, but insisted on dashing in front of him to resume her battle.

Once they reached a private room with shades drawn down over the windows, Hermione stopped in the doorway and begged one last time for Sirius to cease his immature antics. Like an annoying house elf, playfully ignored her and popped his head inside to speak with the man in charge.

A slender, older looking man with a long white mustache looked up from his papers and froze when he recognized the interrupter. His eyes widened the size of saucers and a shaking hand laid down his quill. Slowly, carefully, he rose from his chair as if ready to approach an animal that would easily be frightened away from its rarity. He said nothing as Sirius excused his interruption, once again, hoping for a word. The man took slow, timid steps around to the front of his desk and noticed Hermione standing behind him, shaking her head and waving her hands to insist that this wasn't her fault.

As Sirius began to open his mouth for an apology, the man brightened and extended his hand for a greeting, "Merlin's beard, Sirius Black! I can't tell you how much of an honor it is to meet you. Apologies on behalf of the Ministry, of course, of your wrong conviction, but praise your courageous contributions. I'm Gawain Robards and it's an honor, Mr. Black."

Never seeing her boss so submissive, Hermione's jaw dropped when she saw the immediate change of character. The way he left his desk and gave both she and Sirius a look that could kill, absolutely baffled her. She was sure that he was coming out to alert the officials, threaten to throw Sirius back into Azkaban, and then commit her to desk duty for the next two years. Instead, the lucky dog was showered with apologies and welcomed like a long lost hero. In a way, he was, but the words flying out of Robards' mouth weren't helping his already inflated ego.

Sirius stood there for a few minutes, awestruck, taking compliment after compliment from the Head Auror. Sure, the moment could have lasted forever in his opinion, because it'd been years since he'd snorted enough that the Ministry was so corrupt, they wouldn't see brilliance if it walked right in front of them. However, it appeared a few things had changed; at least, for the next ten minutes.

As his ego magnified, Sirius found the time to interject, "Then, Mr. Robards, Gawain, may I request a favor?"

Mr. Robards lifted his hands proudly to the lapels on his jacket and tugged on them in gesture, as if he had the ability to grant anything he wanted.

"Anything, for Sirius Black," he noted.

On that, Sirius turned around to put an arm around an uninterested Hermione, who otherwise seemed bored senseless and would rather have watched fluxweed grow than to listen to her boss suck up to Sirius. His sudden affection to bring her back into the topic of conversation startled her and she cleared her throat before the gentlemen, as if she'd been paying attention the entire time.

"Then would you mind giving Miss Granger the rest of the day off to celebrate with us? It seems only fitting that she be a part of my little 'welcome back' party, wouldn't you say?" he charmed.

Hermione sighed, not believing how thick he really was laying it on. She was sure that it was of no use, but before she could suggest that it wasn't really necessary, her boss was giving her the day off to rejoice. To show his true appreciation, he instructed the rookie of his department to put the first three rounds on the company credit card, to try and make things right with Sirius Black's relationship with the Ministry.

"Gawain, you drive a hard bargain. If you insist," Sirius tilted his head, trying desperately to show some gratitude, without going over the top.

Pleased with his negotiating skills, Sirius turned to the three and suggested that they take their leave. Hermione, however, advised her boss that it really wasn't necessary for all of it, but was swiftly cut off before she could plead her case. In a flash, Sirius had bent over and hoisted Hermione up by legs, throwing her over his shoulder and walked back through the department.

"Sirius Black, put me down!" She wailed, slapping her hands against his back.

Sirius nodded upon his exit, waving to several familiar faces as he did walking in, parading Hermione over his shoulder with Harry close behind. She squirmed and begged, but nothing would convince him to put her down until they got clear away from Gawain Robards, the company credit card and anything that remotely looked like the Ministry. Instead, she eventually calmed down, having lost the battle and her pride.

Against her control, Hermione had no choice but to resign to the humiliation and didn't speak again, until they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.


	9. A Taste of What's to Come

_A note from Serade Black: Another chapter is out for your reading pleasures. If some of you are impatient and want this story pushed along to get to the "good parts" then perhaps, this is not your story. I love the comments I'm getting, but I'm also getting messages that are wanting me to "hurry, it along!". Now, as much as I love comments, suggestions and grins requests (thank you, btw!) I believe STRONGLY is well thought out stories and not some "just shag her already" stories. Those seem to fizzle out rather quickly and have no meaning or purpose, thus not truly contributing to the Hermione/Sirius ship itself. If you want to do the PWP stories, fine...that's your bag. _

_I have every intention of finishing (and starting another that I'll finish) this story, so sit back and relax and review like crazy so I can fuel up faster for the next chapter. Thanks so much for all your good wishes and help. RJ Lupin's Kat - get to writing!_

_SB_

_ps. See you at Phoenix Rising!_

Chapter 9

"**A Taste of What's to Come"**

The Crobar on Manette Street in Soho was just the proper fitting for the foursome to get a pint and not be noticed too much by the wizarding community. The hour was still mildly early for regulars to have a drink, so there was just one thing that Sirius wanted to do, now that he was a free man.

The Tower Bridge was an icon in London and he remembered walking across it when times got tough with his family. It was there, in a very touristy spot in the city that he thought out his problems as his eyes befell upon such a historical piece.

As a boy, his brother and cousins used to take their brooms and fly to the top to watch muggle London unfold before them. It was such a deathly height to fly on a youth broom, but Bellatrix and Narcissa always pushed him beyond his limits. A trait that he wasn't always proud of, since it later became a battle of who was better at what, which was always a dispute between him and his brother.

Remus slowed down behind Sirius, knowing that it was necessary for him to have some time to himself as he took this memory stroll. His first real steps of freedom into adulthood needed to be solo ones and though Harry wanted to stay close behind him, Hermione, who was still not talking, took Harry's arm and held him back with Remus.

Sirius walked ahead, oblivious to the distance he had behind him from his friends, taking in the smells, the sounds, and the energy of this momentous place. Bustling cars passed him as he walked along the sidewalk, honking their horns in ignorance. He glided a hand over the thick railing that was worn with age and the elements of nature. When he crossed over the center, he couldn't help but look up and imagine his brother taking his first flight to the top of the bridge, knowing full well that Regulus was frightened of heights. It was then, and only then, did he side with Bellatrix and coax him into taking the tall flight or else he'd pay the humiliating price when they got back to school. His younger brother, a baby compared to Bellatrix, had asked him what was up there and would Sirius catch him if he fell. Sirius shook his head like Narcissa, and smiled that charming smile that usually was enough to say anything.

The chilling air hit his face as he neared the other side of the bridge and when he took the last steps off, he turned around to embrace his friends. About twenty feet behind, he smiled at Remus, thanking him for the moments alone.

"All right, let's get a pint!" He announced.

He opened his arms wide, signifying that he was ready to get his day on, and turned in the direction of the first muggle pub he'd ever been into.

Right after the noon hour, they settled at the pub at a table in the back. The poor lighting kept them somewhat incognito in case anyone from the wizarding world just happened to recognize a known-to-be-dead wizard sitting amongst them.

As they took their seats, Hermione followed her instructions and handed Remus the Ministry credit card so he could start a tab. She put up no fight in passing it over, while not making any sound as she closed up her purse and set it on the floor under her feet. Harry excused himself to the loo, leaving her and Sirius alone at the table.

Pretending that she was sitting completely unaccompanied, she folded her hands on top the table and straightened her back stiffly as she looked everywhere around the pub, but at Sirius. She put up the fake façade that she was indifferent to the goings on and sighed impatiently, feigning her anger. Her lips buttoned firm, not saying a word or showing any other kind of emotion other than displease, but her exterior was quickly breaking down with the short little witty comments, her only company kept sending her way.

Finally, as Harry was completely out of sight and Remus was occupied with the bartender, he leaned in and stared directly at her. His eyes were narrowed, his lips pursed and he concentrated on her like a convoluted puzzle.

"I know you can't stay mad at me forever," he baited.

She rolled her eyes and said, "Watch me."

Sirius lifted a swift hand from the table and pointed at her, as in catching her tongue, "Gotcha! I got you to talk to me!"

"I wouldn't say that was talking, it was more of a guarantee," she pouted.

She exuded disinterest as she leaned back in her chair while watching a funny looking man coming in the door, wearing a fedora.

Sirius glanced over towards Remus who was still leaning against the bar, waiting to be served. Another look towards the bathrooms and he still had a few minutes alone with her. He leaned in again, this time taking her hands into his. She shifted nervously in her seat, looking around to see if anyone noticed and then returned her eyes to his. His look was serious, intense even, and she knew that whatever he had to say should only have been said while they were alone.

"I know I can get you to talk to me. I'd hate it if I never heard your voice or saw you smile at me, again. Do me this special favor and humor me for one night by pretending that I have the ability to woo you, just like all the others."

Hermione felt her heart stop in mid thump as his thumbs caressed the tops of her hands. His dark eyes captivated her with a silent hypnosis and she felt the overpowering urge to lean in close enough and just swiftly taste that perfect mouth that tempted her like a rosy red fruit.

Her nerves were about to get the best of her, so she tried to rationalize the intense situation with a head tilt of curiosity. His body was turned into hers like a couple having an illicit affair and she was careful to keep the distance between them.

Daringly, she whispered, "But, I'm not like all the others."

His mouth curved coolly, knowing that he'd said just enough to intrigue her and reel her into his interest. Her eyes gave her away as she tried to hide behind a calm exterior. A few glimpses down at their hands indicated that she was very much aware of their touch and he only added more fuel to the fire by squeezing her soft hands oh so softly. Remus was just being served, so their time was limited.

"I know, that's what I like about you," he winked. He lifted a hand to his lips and kissed the spot where his thumb had touched. "I'm going to go and help Remus with the drinks," he finished.

Hermione was left in her thoughts as his lips touched her hand, creating that subtle burn that she secretly took pleasure in. Her eyes stared at the empty chair where Sirius sat, still stunned with his free comments.

_Oh, no. What have I started?_

Harry plopped down in the seat next to her, mentally splashing cold water down her back to awaken her from her fantasy. Could it be even that? Was Sirius _flirting_ with her? Her? The bookworm? His own godson's best friend? Apparently so, and the game would continue as he returned to the table with cold Strongbow and a fierce grin on his face like a mischievous thief.

Her long time best friend raised his mug tall in the air and toasted the return of his long lost guardian. The group chanted back and chugged the massive brew, with Hermione delicately lifting a pinky finger into the air.

The early hours of night were approaching and the foursome had done several rounds of cider and several shots to follow. Hermione's Ministry credit card was well beyond its allotted limits, but Sirius assured her that if Robards was to mention anything about their frivolous spending, then she was sure to direct him his way.

They went to a safe area in London to travel home, a place that was well known in the wizarding world to apparate from. Then the two long time Marauders carried a very drunk and incoherent Harry between them, using a hidden levitation spell they masked from a pointed wand from underneath Hermione's coat.

Once inside number 12 Grimmauld Place, Remus continued on up the stairs, carefully guiding Harry along like a gliding angel. The same spell was used recently, when it was used to move Sirius up the stairs when he first returned home on that rainy night.

Before extinguishing a few lamps in the living room, Hermione shrugged off her coat and tossed it over the arm of a nearby chair as she walked towards the kitchen to prepare a late night cup of tea.

Glancing over at Sirius, who was just untying his scarf from around his neck, she sweetly asked, "Care for a cup of tea?"

Her voice was so pleasant and soothing after hearing pub songs drained in ale all night, it was impossible for him to say no. As if she just offered him absolute happiness with a single cup of tea, he nodded and followed her to the kitchen.

Her steps were quiet, just by habit, since she had come into the kitchen countless times late at night, alone, careful not to disturb anyone. Sirius, on the other hand, stomped down the stairs like an elephant out of his own habit. The thundering noise made Hermione spin around on him in mid stair to try and hush him. Giving her a look, as if asking why, she casually signaled to the sleeping boy upstairs.

"He's so out of touch right now, love, that if the Hogwarts Express hit this house, he'd still not wake up," Sirius sarcastically explained.

Shaking her head that he was probably right, she turned her business back to making tea and started to fill the kettle with water. Placing it back on its burner, she tapped her wand lightly against the tin container and called for Sirius to fetch three tea bags from the pantry.

He leaned off the counter to make himself useful to her request and kneeled down before the age old cupboard, ironically hidden under the stairs.

"Where, Hermione? The one with the birds over the packaging?" he called over, leaning back to throw his voice at her without yelling and waking up the boy.

"Goodness, no," she replied, making her way over next to him. She quickly scanned the shelves and found the right one, "If we drank that one," she started when he slowly slithered back up the length of her. Her words seemed to slow with every snail-like movement he made as he straightened, looking down the few inches of height he held over her. She hadn't realized how close she had stepped to him; he was nearly pressing against her. He gazed at her, waiting for her to finish. "...we'd be up all night," she managed to breathe.

The shadows kept them hidden from spying eyes, should anyone discover them. Their solace was found by the pantry, just under the stairs, with the settling sounds of the house around them. She clutched the box of tea in her hands, holding it tight as if it were the only means of strength she had left before falling to his feet in a submissive subjection. The way he narrowed his dark eyes on her made her knees weak, like she was the only witch in the world that mattered to him. His finely trimmed shoulder length hair fell before his shoulders, creating a curtain alongside his perfectly chiseled jaw line that held pursed lips. His sunken cheekbones were a thing of the past and all that was bestowed before her was the radiating handsome bloodline of the Blacks

There was no doubt that this man was a wizard, for her mind was absolutely reeling from subliminal messages sent from his body language. She looked up at him hopeful, knowing that he wasn't peering down at her like a piece of meat, but just as a woman he wanted to know. _Again, like the only witch in the world._

She felt her heart flutter again like a trapped canary and opened her mouth to speak, but was only able to let out a quiet sigh.

There was no doubt that he heard her, for the serene sound reminded him to blink. Though his stare was concrete, it was only the result of how much he was enthralled with her. He knew she was a bit apprehensive and he would have had to been blind to not notice she shared a hunger for the same thing he desired. However, it was also known how absolutely forbidden they were.

"Am I standing too close?" he whispered, hoping that she'd allow him to stay where he was.

"No," she took no time to answer. _Could you get any closer?_

"What do you want me to do, Hermione?" he tested.

"Kiss me," she answered, before she thought it through.

_Thank God!_

Finally, his wish was granted as he hesitated no longer than to feel a woman's lips pressed against his. It had been ages since he'd tasted the lingering tease of a woman's last breath that was just shy of hesitation. Her whispered voice was practically panting and he obeyed her request with minimal struggle.

The softness of each lip felt like the velvet touch of rose petals as they met him eagerly.

He cupped a hand around her neck with a familiarity that was decades old, and like riding a bike, you never forgot how to kiss a woman properly. His mild seduction forced her to drop the tea box she clutched so desperately, in order to allow her hands to snake around his neck to pull him in closer to her.

He hugged her slender frame, wrapping his other arm around her waist so that no space was permitted between them. His blood started to heat as the rushing energy flowed through his veins and into harbored animal lust, awakening his old self. Lips of the inhibited one welcomed him graciously, mentally communicating to him that she'd wanted him to kiss her like this for a long, long time. _Years, perhaps? _Sirius's conscience flickered over the idea of that line they shouldn't cross, but as she opened her lips just slightly, inviting him to invade her mouth like a lost lover, the line was a thing of the past.

As their embrace heated like two teenagers on the brink of being discovered by their parents, Hermione savored the feeling of his coarse chin scraping hers. It only added to the grittiness of their affections. Smoothing hands over each other's backs, hip bones meeting, and hair moving into the way of a tilted head was all so intoxicating. The sounds their lips made together seemed musical almost, and the slide of a tongue over a lip was enough to convince Sirius to take her right there on the wooden table they ate dinner on.

The ex-con slowly moved his traveling hands up to cradle her face before him like a treasured angel. His kisses slowed and drawn out, taking a moment to collect their thoughts before going in again for another soft touch and nip of a lip. Their feverish embrace began to slow to something tenderer, like finishing up the last taste of a well prepared dessert. To him, it had been just too long since he'd kissed a woman; he'd forgotten how much he truly enjoyed just the simplest acts of affection. Granted, in some cultures, this was by far the most intimate and as she sighed against him, it was a reminder that he was a free man. Free to do what he wanted, when he wanted, to whomever he wanted.

But, right now, these last few weeks, it had been _this_ woman. He just couldn't seem to get enough of this young woman standing with him. This..._ Hermione Granger, Harry's friend._

He reluctantly pulled away from, as if he'd just realized what it was they were doing and guilt started to melt into him. His eyes opened wide, blinking to clear his mind, his mouth gaped open like a fish with no air. Still, he couldn't seem to pull his hands away from their soft depths of her long curls, lightly touching the back of her neck with his fingers.

With bated breath, he leaned his forehead against hers and whispered, "Do you want me to stop?"

Eternity seemed to pass their shared silent moment together, before she spoke, "No," she dropped her hands against his chest. "But, Remus will be down any minute," she finished.

A little afraid of herself to continue, Hermione slowly pushed away and his hands slid away from her as she walked out of his reach. She bent over to retrieve her forgotten tea box and forced herself to leave him standing there by the pantry. If she looked up at him, back into the dark abyss of his bewitching eyes, she probably would have stayed. She could feel his eyes all over her body, but forced herself to carry on with the business of the tea. After pouring the hot water into three cups, she heard his feet shuffle across the kitchen floor, cautiously approaching her from behind.

Before he reached his intended target, Remus startled him by coming into the kitchen, oblivious to the thick moment he'd almost walked in on.

"He's out. I nearly dropped him and he never even moved. I would have thought him to be dead, if I didn't see his chest rise and fall," Remus explained.

He pulled a chair out from the table, creating a wretched screeching as it scraped across the floor, tearing up the silence. Hermione carried the three cups to the table and set them down, averting her eyes from Sirius. Small talk was made between them as they sipped their tea and as the last sips finally came to her, Hermione announced that she was retiring to bed.

The heavy moment shared between she and Sirius might have been an irresponsible one and she felt it best to just go upstairs and sleep it off. Perhaps in the morning, it would be okay to discuss things, but for now, as she flashed Sirius a brief good night smile and patted Remus on the shoulder, she couldn't think straight.

With his keen peripheral vision, Sirius followed her as she left the room. He watched her carefully, studying her every move, looking for an inkling of something, anything that she might offer him. A wink, a subtle hand gesture, a hint of anything that permitted him to follow her up those stairs that minute and escort her to her bedroom.

The dangerous hunger that settled in him unsatisfied had to remain so. There would be nothing further that night, by the looks of it. She let the door quietly shut behind her, with Sirius accepting that their moment might have been a one shot deal. But, oh how it felt good to kiss her. The way her hair tickled his cheeks, the rush of the moment when she offered her lips as her only sacrifice, the feel of her body turning into his and yielding to his every desire –

"I'm going to bed, too. Good night, Sirius," Remus announced. He was already up and walking to the door. When his friend didn't respond, he chuckled under his breath. His friend appeared to be lost, deep in thought. "Oh, Sirius," he asked, finally catching his attention. Sirius looked up, as if he just remembered he wasn't alone in the room. "You might want to wipe off Hermione's lipstick from your chin, mate," Remus suggested, tapping his chin indicating the spot.

Guilty, Sirius immediately clapped his hand to his chin, hiding any kind of evidence that would deem him responsible for a horrifying crime. The line that they so carelessly crossed was about to lash back at them, reminding them of their prohibited actions. Silent, swallowing the lump in his throat, Sirius patiently waited for Remus to scold him. Instead, to his surprise, Remus just ducked his head and disappeared out the door, leaving Sirius alone in the kitchen with his thoughts.


	10. The Game is On

_A note from Serade Black: All right! Now the story is moving for you guys. I'm seeing more reviews, getting friendly messages (not that they had never been friendly, just somewhat pushy), and really jazzed to pump these chapters out faster (providing school stuff allows me to). _

_We see Sirius coming into his own in this chapter, we also see Hermione a little more in her element. I really love the suggestions and comments from the readers, letting me know what they like and don't like about the characterizations. I mean, if you can't see JKR writing them like this (and I don't mean the ship – lol), then let me know what you would or wouldn't expect from the characters. Read on! Enjoy. Review!_

_See you at Phoenix Rising in New Orleans! _

**Chapter 10 **

"_The Game is On"_

The dry overcast day in London was a refreshing change from the spotted rain showers they were having the last few days. It provided a pleasant afternoon outside, though no sun, to allow people to enjoy nature's fresh air.

Hermione was just settling in back at work, after her hour lunch break. She was lucky to find a quiet spot outdoors that allowed her to clear her head of silly ideas of what could have transpired the night before in the kitchen with Sirius. Had that night been a full moon, had Remus been out for the night, and had Harry never come home for a few days break, she was sure to have made the biggest mistake of her life.

Giving into Sirius Black was much like signing a contract for regret. Sure, he was absolutely heaven to look at with those dark eyes, shoulder length black hair, a perfect jaw and a derrière that looked so good in jeans, you almost didn't want to see him out of them. So, the truth remained to be so, she had to conclude that what occurred between the two of them the night before was fleeting and probably wouldn't happen again. He was too close to the Order, too close to her best friend, and completely out of the question when it came to a stable relationship. He would promise her nothing but heartache and disappointment and they'd have to live in that house platonically, no matter what came up.

Although, the way he looked at her the night before did make her feel that she was the only one in his world. The request of the kiss was due to their passing glances here and there through the house, and that moment in Harry's room after an afternoon of horseplay was so thick you could have cut it with a knife.

_Oh, he smelled so good!_

The frazzled witch that was desperately trying to collect her thoughts, and get back to work in her cubical, could still smell him on her skin. She distracted herself with replaying the way he kissed her so romantically; she couldn't recall Snape ever performing so passionately on her. There was no comparison with the two.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron startled her.

As if being discovered for having impure thoughts of someone that was totally off-limits, she spun around on her foot to confront the intruder.

"Ronald, don't do that!" She huffed.

He fell into the chair at his desk behind her, throwing his feet up to take a much needed ten minute rest, after his lunch break. He grabbed his Remembrall and started to toss it up in the air as he watched it change colors.

"Sorry to spook you. You all right? You seem, I dunno, discombobulated," he impressed.

She glanced back at him annoyed, "Don't try to use such big words, Ron. You'll choke over them."

Ron grimaced at her sarcastic tone, but soon forgot when he nearly dropped the Remembrall on the floor.

"Just making sure that you're coming out, tonight," he confirmed.

"Why? What's going on?"

"Well, since its official, a bunch are going to the Leaky Cauldron tonight, to celebrate Sirius's return. There's sure to be loads there, people coming out of the woodwork for it. Kingsley was the one to organize it, since it was he who was after him for so long," he ended on a snicker, knowing the truth.

Hermione sighed as she thought about whether she was prepared for another pub outing. Since it was supposed to be a rather quiet revelry last night, she was sure that the one tonight was going to out-do it. It was going to be at the Leaky Cauldron, after all. Perhaps in that kind of environment, she and Sirius might be able to talk it out and things wouldn't be as uncomfortable at home.

She agreed to attend and by six o'clock she was walking in with Ron. She recognized a few Aurors from her department had snuck away early to get a round started with the guest of honor. The pub was packed with many wizards and witches offering a hearty "welcome back" to Sirius, that she wasn't sure if she'd get a chance to speak with him. Making her way through the crowd, she managed to find a spot to sit next to Harry, who was already surrounded by three groupie witches of his own. While Ron went to get her a butterbeer, she had to listen to Harry brag about his favorite quidditch plays.

Staying out of the conversation, she smiled and shook her head at her friend, who never seemed to take a breath as he explained every detail about his own trick plays that usually got him the golden snitch. Loud popping sounds from Exploding Fire Fizzles from the Weasley shop went off periodically, drowning out surrounding voices, causing them to speak louder through the bustling pub.

Ron called her name through the pub, asking for her help in carrying the large steins full of drink. Ron wasn't able to balance the four in his hands and he couldn't muster up the correct spell to levitate them over to the table, so Hermione got up to assist. Immediately, her seat was taken by an on-looking witch with hopeful eyes on Harry, that she didn't waste the energy in fight over the small square of cushion in the booth next to her friend. Instead, she made her way through the throngs of people occupying every stepping space in the pub. She wasn't watching where she was stepping and nearly managed to trip over a goblin that was there for Gringott's.

She retrieved her butterbeer from Ron, but soon found that her company was off to speak to Kingsley about a possible raid on the Malfoys he so desperately wished to be in on. Hermione was left behind, not having taken the opportunity to follow behind him through a parting path that had already closed up.

Finding herself alone, wedged between two rather large smelly wizards fresh from the docks, her eyes glanced up at the clock when she found herself in a meaningless conversation with Colin Creevy. He was still carrying around his camera, his hobby by trade now, since he freelanced with The Daily Prophet's Rita Skeeter; an honor he was certainly proud of.

The clock only posted nine o'clock and she wondered how long she'd have to stay, in order for it not to be rude. There were so many people in the pub, it was hard to see every face that came and went through, and so it wouldn't have made a difference if she'd said she was there much later than she actually was. So many greeters were well-wishing Sirius, that she didn't even get a chance to talk to him, let alone let him know that she was there. He was too incredibly wrapped up in the company around him to notice who was around past the five wizard deep crowd he had circled around him at all times.

The door chimed that another was coming inside the pub. Colin had leaned over to retrieve his butterbeer from another table and when he returned, Hermione had vanished. She was already on her way to greet the dark wizard coming in through the door, extremely pleased to see him coming inside.

"Leave it to Black to lead every single wizard in town to one location. Could he have asked to be a better target?" The shadowed wizard moaned.

"Severus, try not to drop poor thoughts on him, already. You should be proud to see he's back, imagine what he could tell us," Hermione softened, smiling up at him sweetly.

"Doubtful. Black has never been one to meet any of my expectations. Which is why, for him, they remain to be so low."

His sour attitude was not surprising, for any time Snape heard the mere name mentioned he felt the need to bring anyone down. The two found a vacated standing table and kept each other company to pass the time. Snape had only joined the gathering at the Leaky Cauldron, because he knew Hermione was going to be there. As much as it pained him not to be her suitor, it pained him even more to go too long without seeing her.

Amongst the cloudiness of Firewhisky shots being set before him, Sirius was still able to see what all was going on in the pub around him. He had hoped that _she_ would come, having not slept a wink the night before due to sincere thoughts of her. He was haunted by her not-so innocent kiss that he wondered if what she was conveying to him was true. Their thick, intimate moments they conjured between them were enough to intrigue his interest in the once bushy-haired girl.

His animagus identity was true to form as his sixth sense smelled her the moment she entered the pub. He could smell her perfume that lingered on her skin from its application several hours ago in the morning that it was now entered into a secret memory bank in his mind. He would always recognize that scent.

Conversation had kept him from going to seek her out for the evening, so that he might see her smile up at him again. The chances of her greeting him much the same way were slim, but he couldn't help but hunger for a flirt from her. Perhaps with her permission, he'd be able to sneak her away into a shadowed corner so that he might feel her sigh against him, again.

Instead, he managed to catch her enthralled in conversations with the likes of Luna Lovegood, Colin Creevy and now, to his disgust, Snape. His repulsion for her new company that joined her so casually at a tall table, occupied him enough that he didn't take much notice to the two young witches that had accompanied him on either side. His surrounding company took a few steps away to clear out the spots next to Sirius, so that he might be graced with proper female companionship that night. It wasn't until one witch brazenly leaned in to whisper something secretly raunchy in his ear, that his attention was ripped from the scene of the greasy sallow git and his pretty young drinking companion.

Hermione was just glancing away from Snape as it was pointed out how obvious Sirius was being with his new interests. She turned her head just in time to see Sirius crack a deep smile towards the blonde witch under his left arm, who revealed nearly every bit of her assets to him like a Chinese buffet. The second witch on the other side already felt left out and leaned in to compete with her whispering secrets.

Hermione paled with embarrassment, feeling absolutely foolish with his new company. The sincere happiness on his face for what seemed to be nothing more than a one night offer repulsed her and all of a sudden, she felt positively cheapened. She'd practically thrown herself at him the night before, like one of these floozy witches and though he wasn't smiling as much as he was that moment, she was utterly ashamed. Hermione felt her cheeks warm and she quickly turned away from the scene unfolding before her, twenty feet across the pub.

Sirius smiled, chuckled under his breath, that these two pathetic girls were offering such services that any wizard would jump at. However, it was not his style to take up a one night stand from ladies so cheap; he'd rather kiss his own cousin than to bed either one of these girls. He hadn't thought of how it might appear to spying eyes, and he quickly glanced up towards Snape and Hermione, both of whom seemed to be uninterested in his activities. Snape, however, managed to look up in time to catch his eye and sneer at him disappointedly.

Snape shook his head, clucking under his tongue, "He knows what he's doing."

"He looks a right state, doesn't he?" Hermione asked, still looking about the pub to break her concentration.

She should have known better than to believe that Sirius would see her any other way. It appeared that he hadn't changed from his long time reputation. Sweet, innocent, uncorrupted Hermione will stay just like that: untouched by the likes of him. She managed to peek over at Sirius across the bar one more time. With a smirk on his face, amused by the two ladies at his side, he let them lure him out the pub and away from the crowd, up the stairs.

Hermione could feel her upper lip curl with disgust. She felt so hurt and was so upset with herself, she couldn't stay long enough to see the look on his face, once he was finished. He would have his fun, he would "get laid" as he so put it the evening he awoke when she helped him down the stairs.

"_I just need to get laid and everything will sort itself out," he said._

The night was taking its toll, after a long day at the Ministry and a heavy night the evening before, she was spent. She hated to rush out on Snape, now that he'd just gotten there, but she really couldn't find it in herself to stay any longer where she didn't feel all that comfortable.

"You sure I cannot convince you to stay, otherwise?" Snape requested. He was always so kind to her.

She smiled and bowed her head, letting her curls fall forward into her face like a veil, "No, I've had a long day. I really am just exhausted, Severus. Safe night," she stood on her toes to reach up and offer him a genuine kiss on his cheek.

He nodded his head slightly and squeezed her hand in his good-bye, "A drink soon?"

"That'd be nice," she nodded and pulled on her coat.

With a sophisticated flair, she tossed her scarf around her neck and disappeared out the door onto the foggy London streets alone. Snape returned to his table and finished his drink in one last sip and quietly slipped out of the pub, unnoticed. The company he sought out to see had retired for the night, and so would he. He had no other business to be in there.

OoOoOoOo

Saturday morning seemed to drag on for the household. Harry had gotten in with Remus and Sirius had gotten in sometime after that. He didn't spend the evening at the Leaky Cauldron, much to the guys' surprise. With that, Sirius took no time in explaining his personal preference against women who were that loose.

Sirius sat on top of the kitchen counter, nursing a cup of morning tea that Remus had just made and carried on about the night before and all the faces he'd not seen in years. He counted on one hand all the wizards whom he'd thought to have died a terrible death, just by the way their paths began back at school.

"…and you know women have changed, as well," he sipped.

A thoughtful look fell over his face as he concentrated all his opinions on that one swallow as the idea of women danced in his head again.

"How do you mean, my friend?" Remus humored, taking toast out of the toaster.

Harry perked up his ears as well, as he sat grinning and listening to his godfather, hanging on his every word like it would change the world. The young James look-a-like watched his every move, savoring the last few hours he had with his forgotten guardian, secretly hoping that he'd receive an owl that the next quidditch match would be canceled and he was allotted more personal time.

"They take care of their bodies differently, now. All perfectly shaved and such. It's not like it used to be, Remus. It's kind of refreshing. I like this day in age, now," Sirius concluded, nodding his head that he had made such a brilliant conclusion.

The kitchen trio was joined by the last member of the house and she came in, wishing everyone a fine morning.

"There she is!" Sirius barked, swinging his legs over the kitchen counter.

Hermione immediately went to the kettle to fix a tea, when Remus stopped her fidgeting hands and offered the fourth cup he had made for her, already. She looked up at him with a thankful, but inquisitive, face.

"I can hear you, when you don't even realize it," he said, smiling like one does a thoughtful friend.

She patted a hand on his back in thanks and leaned over to kiss his cheek in appreciation for his everyday goodness. With the latest copy of the Daily Prophet that lay on the table, she picked it up and took it into the sitting room. She was still embarrassed with what had transpired with Sirius, that she wasn't quite certain how to speak to him.

By the time she had gotten half way through the paper, she heard rustling coming in from the kitchen, indicating that it was time for Harry's departure. He'd said he was staying long enough for Sirius's meeting and his position on the team would be covered for the time being; it was just always sad to see Harry leave. The house needed him.

Remus, Sirius and Hermione stood at the door as they bid him good-bye until Christmas. His bag was slung over his shoulder and his head was down, trying to avoid any emotional moments. The moment was somber, for he just wanted to see Sirius as long as he could. He finally got his godfather back and life just couldn't stop rotating for him. The sun still rose every morning, Voldemort was still gaining followers, the Order was still having secret meetings and quidditch matches still needed their star seeker.

When the time came for Harry to give Sirius a hug, it was hard for both grown man. The godfather held onto Harry not just like a friend, but more like a son. By now, the James copy seemed to be so much of a memory for the wronged prisoner that he wanted to have Harry as close to him as possible for fear that he too, would leave him.

Sirius couldn't have been more honored to receive such a responsibility than to look after his best friend's son. Harry, who always looked upon him as that empty father figure, reminded him that love was worth fighting for, at any cost. James did it for Lily, Lily did it for Harry and Sirius would have done it for anyone he cared for. Sirius needed Harry as much as Harry needed a father and the two had quickly created that bond the first time Sirius came back. It was only foreshadowing the years ahead of them; Sirius Black wasn't going anywhere.

Good-byes were always so hard with anyone, even with the scarred one who tried valiantly not to break into watery eyes. So with a quick nod and a swift wave, Harry turned and set off to his apparating point to return to the world of competitive quidditch, while leaving something behind to brew while he was gone.

Upon Harry's departure, Hermione was quick to leave as well. She was just leaning over to pick up her messenger bag to get ready to go into London to do some shopping. Her mind had gone into overdrive after sorting her thoughts out over Sirius, once she saw how he behaved so passively with those women, and needed some alone time out of the house and away from everyone. It was ridiculous for her to even believe anything meant anything with him at this point of his return. It was quite possible that she was just used to sate himself for the time being.

Once he concluded that she had plans to run off for the afternoon, he was worried about how they never got to talk about the kiss they shared in the kitchen. He stood there silent in the foyer, watching her blatantly avoid him at all costs. She maneuvered around him in ways that weren't necessary, indicating her urgency to leave the house. He checked to see that Remus was completely out of earshot and submerged in the kitchen, before he tried to interact with her.

"Hermione, wait," he insisted, grabbing her arm as she reached for the door handle.

She froze as she was caught sneaking out of the house right in front of him. She hoped that he was just going to let her out of the room without any explanation, but found it doubtful. She really didn't wish to confront him, since the two nights prior had forced her into an absence of slumber as her imagination made her toss and turn through the night. Her lack of sleep had heightened her sensitivity and she wasn't in, nor did she believe she ever would be, the mood to discuss the kiss. _The kiss, _she dreamed. Even thought his hand was holding onto her arm, she tried with all she could to avoid his eye contact that was so set on her at that moment.

It angered her when she just pictured how submissive he must have been with those two eager witches from the night before; just one night after she asked him to kiss her. Their lingering looks and suggested moments around the house were nothing more than something to pacify him until he was able to fulfill an urge. If he had anything to prove, it was that he still had "it".

Her pathetic moment of weakness, believed that their small talk and flirting eyes might have been sincere. But, she was wrong. She was mistaken. His first night as a free man and he proved the theory that Hermione Granger was not a good match for him. Instead, he had made her feel insignificant and slight, making her out to be no more important than any of his other conquests.

"Save yourself the trouble of explaining, Sirius. It was my fault, I shouldn't have asked you to kiss me the other night," she slowly explained. Her eyes still failed to meet his.

"It wasn't anyone's fault, Hermione. It wasn't even a fault," he expressed, lifting a finger to her chin so that she would face him. "Do you regret me kissing you?"

Finally, she mustered the strength within her to meet his eyes for the first time that morning and tried to remain honest, "No, but I'm not going to set myself up Sirius. I know what you're like and I'm not going to be one of them."

"One of whom?" he smiled, amused. He thought her to be playing a game, but when she didn't meet his grin, he knew it was something more serious, "What did I do?"

She found the moment ridiculous, like he believed her to have been blind the night before to not notice the witches hanging all over him like a cheap suit. Clearly, he was insulting her and she didn't feel like getting into a pointless debate.

She pulled her face out of his grasp, "You know what I mean."

For a moment he faltered. Could she have believed that the women he was briefly with last night be to his liking?

"Please don't judge me, Hermione," he quietly requested.

"Let's just pretend it didn't happen," she whispered, trying to save them the embarrassment.

Sirius was silent for a moment, letting her words sink in like a piercing dagger. He knew he wasn't in the wrong believing he didn't make a mistake the other night. He enjoyed her, he liked her, and he'd go crazy if the thought of never kissing her again was his fate. As dangerous they would be together, they'd already had a taste of that forbidden fruit. You couldn't take it away so easily; not when both parties were secretly fighting the urge to do it again. Although, she was fighting it pretty well, believing him to be the stereotype of what he appeared to be the night before.

He let go of her arm, since she'd tried so hard to remove herself from his grasp, "No, I won't."

His friendly exterior seemed to slowly hibernate into the man before her. His smile fell, a grimace over his lips set and he could feel that she was searching for a reason to deny the chemistry they'd created since he'd returned.

His intent stare was too much for her to take in, knowing that he wanted her to elaborate. Why should she? Shouldn't his actions the night before be enough of an explanation for her lack of affection now? He had dug his whole by ignoring her the entire night, finding that his business with two cheap witches more of a concern for him, rather than teasing a young witch who otherwise would never have considered him for who he was. She felt the hairs on her body beginning to stand on end as he waited patiently for her to continue with an excuse. The room around her started to shrink and she could hear the quiet whispers from the spying portraits. They'd all been properly notified of the intimacy between the original house owner and its fellow occupant. An interaction that had the former misses been alive, she would have Crucio'd them both for performing such a forbidden act between bloodlines.

For a split second, she felt a tinge of guilt for leaving him so empty of actual answers, but knew that it was just his gift of radiating that allure that women found wanting. She felt no desire to justify her negation of their intimate interlude and instead, turned on her heel and left out the front door.

Sirius stood stunned. She'd just left him, with no explanation of why she was acting the way she was. He wanted so badly to have actually spoken to her the day before, hell, the night before, but she was always wrapped up in company with someone else. It wasn't until he noticed the way she and Snape were looking at each other, that he felt a twinge of jealously over his closeness to her. Sirius, though he appeared intrigued with his female cohorts, had his eyes on Hermione the entire night. He knew the moment that she walked into the pub that the air had changed. Her scent traveled deep into his senses, having memorized it the night before when he had her in his arms. She'd been chatted up by various young wizards he could not keep up with and felt a bit inadequate next to wizards fifteen years his junior. He had no idea who she might have been involved with prior to his advancement. Nor, was he even aware that someone else might have had their eye on her for their own obvious reasons.

Nevertheless, Sirius did not wish to make any issues of their interlude, until she was ready to face it. Clearly, as Snape took her into his company, she was willing for any possibilities. He needed to shake off the women that were vying for his attention, so he stepped away with them briefly to allow them to offer themselves in private.

The witches, very close friends, had a room at the Leaky Cauldron and they invited him up for extra activities. Sirius, having promised himself not to rush into any physical contact with another until he knew them to be safe, politely declined any offer of services. Instead, he allowed them to put on a show for him. No harm in watching, he thought. After ten minutes, they completely forgot he was in the room as they began their pleasuring skills on one another, with no help from the handsome wizard. Believing that his time was running away, he quietly slipped out of the room to try and find Hermione, so that they might sit and talk, or just socialize in the pub setting. When he'd returned downstairs, she was gone. And so was Snape.

As the once portrait-shrieking room stilled around him, Sirius watched the door before him, taking in its cruel chiseled carvings. The Black Family crest stared back at him from the heavy dark oak, reminding him of who he was. His name, his reputation, all of which he was unable to change.

Light tinkering sounds drifted into his ears over the quiet whisperings of the family portraits that watched him carefully, ready to duck out of their frames, if a temper erupted. Instead, Sirius just shook his head in denial, not letting this get to him. He fought against following her out, because he wasn't going to forget their kiss. He wouldn't let her, either. She just needed time. She may have been stubborn, but perhaps that's what he liked about her, that's what made her different than the other witches that turned his head. She definitely proved to be a challenge and he wasn't convinced that she was out of the question, just yet. The cards had been dealt. The game was on.


	11. Reconciliation

_A note from Serade Black: thanks so much for all of you "die hards" reading this. It really tickles me when I see such a jump in views, then I know I've turned a few more onto it. The reviews have been wonderful, thanks so much. Even the little ones remind me that there IS a fanbase for this ship._

_For all you "converts" out there, welcome. Help this ship grow, make it bigger, give it a panel at the conventions, enjoy them! To all of you Snape/Hermione shippers, I mean no ill towards our Potions professor. I've never been a ss/hg shipper, but felt that this really works with the dynamics of Sirius & Snape. What better than to put a girl in the mix?_

_Enjoy!_

_SB_

**Chapter 11**

**_RECONCILIATION_**

_Quick thinking reminded her that the house was empty. Remus was far from Grimmauld Place, since the window displayed the bright full moon in the sky outside. It was so definite, that not many lanterns in the house were lit, since the luminous object provided ample light, even in dark shadowed corners. The portraits' prying eyes peeked in on them, after hearing their playful banter downstairs in the kitchen. It was only too obvious where the twitterpated ones were going._

_They were both at the bottom of the stairway, watching one another to see who was going to make the next move. Hermione lifted herself up on the first step and turned around to face him below her. She rested a hand on the banister casually, using it to steady herself if she needed to flee in a hurry. But, she wasn't going to run away. Not to get away from him, anyway. He exuded that aura that any woman would fall into a piddle for, but Hermione was strong. She had learned to work with it, or against it, so that he wasn't entirely in control at all times. Though he gazed up at her like a tempting dessert he wished to devour, he managed to keep a cool demeanor about him throughout their simple little game of cat and mouse. For a moment, she faltered and forced herself to look away from his intense stare. She bit her lip to reflect her innocence, but as he played on her weakness and placed a hand over hers, she needed to prove herself as anything but easy. _

_He hadn't kissed her in at least fifteen minutes, so the next one he was going to have to work for. With a sly step behind her, she ascended up to the second stair. Sirius's dark features grinned into a playful smirk. The shadows cast over his face made him look like a rugged dark prince._

"_You're quite keen on your little games, aren't you?" he whispered with a hint of sarcasm._

_Hermione ducked her head and replied, "No more than you, Mr. Black."_

_He was quiet, like he was thinking of something clever to retort. Instead, he followed her and went up one stair. In response, she lifted herself up the next one and so on, and so forth. The game was on, he thought. She made teasing him a pleasurable game._

_She spun around on him, as if to usher him to follow her and walked down the hallway, once they reached the top. Stopping in front of her open bedroom door, she turned around to face him. He slinked up to her, filling the space they had between them and placed both hands against the frame of her bedroom door._

_Her eyes met his and she lifted a hand to slide passed his scruffy chiseled jaw. His hair fell over his cheeks as he tilted his face into her inviting palm. Her thumb crossed over his swollen lips and she slowly dropped her hand down his chest and off of his body as she took two steps backwards into her room._

_Sirius remained still, hands still up on the wooden frame around her door. _

"_What's wrong?" Hermione asked, tilting her head in question._

"_I cannot come into your room, unless you invite me," he said simply._

_His look was sincere, as if this was a consistent rule for him when it came to women. Ever the gentleman, much to her surprise, this threw Hermione. She found that his simple act of chivalry had left her breathless enough to part her lips that she was speechless. Instead of speaking, she rushed to retrieve those two steps and lift herself up to him, giving him that kiss he had earned._

_He could have been an animal. He could have forced himself on her with no explanation, but instead, he held himself before the threshold to her bedroom. His restraint, his self control was deliciously sexy and Hermione wanted nothing than to nip his lower lip with passion. _

_When she touched his lips, she reached up around his neck so that she could pull his face back to hers in order to bite that lip. He was incredibly responsive, to no surprise, and gladly swept her up in his arms tightly, to ensure the prevention of her escape._

_With slow, subtle urging, he managed to get her to take a few steps away from her bedroom and follow with him down the hallway. Just a few small paces and his back was pressed up against his own door._

"_Of course, then there is always my room where I have no rules," he confessed, tugging her inside._

_Her self-control must have been on a break, for she found herself easily persuaded into falling against him as he pulled her with him. With a slight kick of his foot, the door slammed shut behind him and he strategically walked her to the bed. _

Hermione woke up in a start at the sound of the door slamming. She lifted herself up into a sitting position, abruptly waking her out of her heavy sleeping slumber. Her hand flew to her chest as she tried to calm herself of the warm erotic dreams that plagued her that night. Her breath caught and came out in pants as she tried to rationalize fantasy and reality. Her subconscious forced her to look around, as if to verify that none of the dream was real and she was safely intact, and alone, in her own room. A shaking hand quickly lifted the covers to check she still had her clothes on below the waist, just in case there was anything she might have done sleepwalking. Of course, had she actually gone to bed with Sirius, something told her that he wouldn't allow her to forget it.

Heavy sharp breaths came from the startled young witch, embarrassed by what her imagination was playing on her. Dreams of an older Casanova taking her to his bedroom danced in her head, the very sound of his voice ricocheting in her imagination. But, oh how sexy he was when he mentioned he couldn't enter her room without her permission. Had that vow held true, she had no worries about any possible night invasions without her knowledge.

Feeling absolutely foolish, she reached over and pulled a stray pillow to her mouth and yelled into it like a silly teenager. She was a grown woman and now she was being plagued by lustful dreams of him? Surely, he had done something to her tea the night before, for there was no way this was all done by her own subconscious.

Glancing over at her alarm clock, she noticed she still had a good thirty minutes before it was set to go off. She was too restless to try and go back to sleep to capture a few more much needed minutes, so she decided just to go downstairs for a highly caffeinated tea. Perhaps, a cup of tea from the box with the birds on the packaging would be needed.

Hermione quietly slipped down into the kitchen, seeing a robed Remus fiddle around with the dishes in the sink. She quietly padded across the floor to sneak up on him, or rather wish him good morning and thank him for doing the dishes.

"I know you're standing right behind me, Hermione," Remus noted.

Upon sensing her approach, he crooked his neck a bit to watch a blue jay perched on an extended tree branch. He always had a fondness for the simplest things in life that weren't threatening.

Hermione smiled as she placed a gentle friendly hand on his back. She really appreciated the friendly bond that they shared, like two friends that were centuries old. He respected her for being wise beyond her years and she respected him as both a past professor, survivor and trustworthy friend. With a gentle smile, he turned his head towards her. She hugged him as she stood closer, wishing him a good morning as she went to take a seat.

Remus prepared her tea and walked over to the big table in the center to serve it to her. He noticed Hermione glancing at the doorway now and then, waiting to see if anyone might come in and join them. She hoped _that_ someone was still slumbering above.

Her housemate sat down at the table with her, adding milk to his tea and letting the spoon stir it for him. Without saying a word, he could tell that she was mentally occupied with the dreamings of Sirius.

With no other approach, he was tactless, "So, what are you going to do about Sirius?"

She was just lifting the cup to her lips, when after twenty years of learning, missed her mouth as his brash question startled her. Hermione immediately raised a worried eye on him, as if she might have had it written all over her face with red paint. Her throat tightened, her palms felt clammy all of a sudden and she tried to think of something to explain the reasoning of it.

Remus could tell that she wasn't prepared to explain herself and kindly calmed her, "I know, Hermione. No, he didn't tell me. I figured it out on my own."

Like a depressed puppy dog after making a mess, her face fell guilty. She was ashamed that she'd allowed her mind to stray to such childish fantasies. Surely he was going to advise her that everything was out of the question; she was a smarter girl than to be interested in him. He was going to point out that the notion of fulfilling a crush with someone so close to the family was beyond reason.

But, this was Remus. He would somehow find a way to smooth it out and make it sound not so bad, like he always did with things, even when at Voldemort's mercy. He was good like that.

Another fearsome glance to the door, just in case he walked in while they were talking about him and Remus, again, calmed her.

"He's not home. He went out earlier this morning for a run," he explained.

Now a free man, Sirius took well advantage of being in human form during the day. No longer did he need to stretch his legs in his animagus form to not be recognized, instead he was now allowed to roam free through the streets of suburban London. Somehow the vision of Sirius coming in sweaty from a run wasn't the worst thing to see first thing in the morning.

_Oh, jeez._

"I should have seen this coming, Hermione. You're right out of a relationship and he was the first one to enter your life," he theorized.

"No, Remus, that's not it at all. Severus and I are over, so there's no need to rationalize it that way. This thing, it's nothing," she replied.

"Yesterday, you could feel the tension in this house, it was so thick. So, it's more than just nothing. I confronted him about it and he was pretty tight lipped."

"It was a mistake, Remus. It's my fault. I instigated it," Hermione quietly confessed, letting her face fall into her palms.

"You instigated it? Hermione, that's not like you. As for Sirius, it's usually him that-"

"I know," she cut off.

"Hermione, it's nothing to be this upset about. You two can't live like this. Something is going to have to be said," he said diplomatically.

"I don't want to be like the others, Remus. It was a silly thing to do. It was just a school girl crush that was still lingering around in my brain and when the opportunity came about, I let him kiss me. It's really not his fault," Hermione couldn't take Remus staring at her, so she folded her arms on the table and plopped her forehead in shame.

He quietly sipped his coffee as if he'd just commented on the weather and not hearing his guilt-burdened younger housemate.

"I know I'm setting myself up for a tremendous fall. I'm just not, nor will I ever be materialistic," she looked up at Remus with doe eyes. "You know what I mean."

Remus tilted his head, "Don't be so quick to judge him. Did the Florence Nightingale effect hit you?"

Hermione stopped to think for a moment and then let her eyes drift over to him. She felt like she was silent forever, before finally getting the courage up to nod her head. As if a little light went off in her head, she surprised herself with her sudden realization.

Then, the little light flickered off and she pled, "Remus, this is insane. He's Harry's godfather! The idea of it is just...it's crazy. Simply put, it's completely out of the question."

Remus sighed as she vented her thinking process, "Perhaps, it's not. Harry is an issue, yes. But, he might not see it as harsh as you do. Sometimes, Hermione, you can't stop fate. Sometimes things happen and you just cannot explain why."

With a slight grin, he lowered his eyes as his mind drifted to his own relationship with a younger witch. Someone he'd known as a child, that later turned out to be the sole ray of light that made him as happy as he was that day.

"If it matters any, I'll let you in on a little secret," Remus leaned in. A hint of confidence carried his voice as he began, "Had you been just a conquest, a regular girl, someone that didn't really matter to him, he would have told me."

Hermione gave him a blank stare, not quite understanding.

"Girls he fancied, or respected, he never told me about. He was very private about particular women he considered. Had you been anything less, he would have bragged to me the night I caught lipstick on his chin," he winked.

His comforting theory started to slowly soak into her as she dissected his words piece by piece. A slight weight had been lifted off of her shoulders for the moment, but she couldn't help but still think about how she was regarded that night in the pub.

"I don't know, Remus. The way he was with those two witches in the pub the other night, just told me that he doesn't see it like that right now. These women were all over him like some cheap groupies and you know I'm just not like that. I have to believe that the kiss was just a moment of weakness and nothing more will come from it," she thought aloud.

Remus was already standing, ready to leave the kitchen when he added, "Perhaps what you saw the other night, wasn't what really was. Perhaps what you didn't see would shock you more, if you knew what he didn't do," he riddled.

The young witch furrowed her brow in thought, as his perplexed statement stumped her for a few minutes. By the time she looked up to inquire further gossip, he was out of the kitchen leaving her to her own conclusion.

Could what Remus been telling her a truth? Even though Sirius had this wild, devilish exterior, was he still practical at the same time? Maybe what Remus was explaining was right and Sirius regarded the women he respected more than what he was leading on to.

A particular scene of Hermione's last dream where she was just led into his bedroom replayed in her mind. Like a secret pleasure, a small slow grin started to creep over her lips as she pictured Sirius getting caught with her lipstick on his chin.

A couple of days passed and Sirius left Hermione alone, not quite avoiding her, but not cornering her or pulling her aside to talk. They were less than normal compared to what they'd been and the more Sirius was quiet around her, the more thoughtful Hermione became. She hated the change in character between the two and there was definitely a different feel to the house.

Sirius knew that she was still put off with whatever it was that she'd thought too hard about. Remus had remained pretty tight lipped about any talks she and him might have had, so he had proved to be a rather dodgy ally.

"I'm staying out of it. You two are adults and can sort it out on your own," Remus declared, playing Switzerland.

Sirius was still not convinced that he'd missed his opportunity to win her over. They were friends, first and foremost, and as much as the taste of her lips soothed him in an unfamiliar way, he really thought they felt something. A small bit of him denied that maybe it was just because she was the first woman he'd kissed since his imprisonment and anything was going to be good. The other small bit of him felt that twinge of guilt that, perhaps kissing his godson's best friend was the worst thing to do.

Beyond all else, all he could think of was how she tasted under her earlobe or what her bare skin felt like under his fingertips. Was it because her young flesh glowed like new morning dew that he felt the desire to touch her? Was it a selfish act of wanting to be with someone so young, since he was deprived of it himself? Was her allure due to the taboo of such a relationship that the dangerous temptation seemed like a challenge to him? All of which could be true, all of which could be reasons why not to see her in any other light than as a fellow housemate and friend. But, it was she who asked him to kiss her. Although, had she not given the right answer, he already planned on giving her one whether she wanted it or not.

One particular weekday night left Hermione curled up on the couch with a blanket over her feet. She was already deep in her reading, waiting to see if the hero would make it in time to the secret vault, curling a strand of hair with her finger. The stiff steps coming down the stairs interrupted her train of imagination and raised her head to see their owner.

With his head ducked low, he almost didn't notice her sitting there blending into the sofa, but when he reached the last stair he offered a smile in her general direction. He regarded her like an acquaintance, not like a girl he'd had an intimate interlude with in the kitchen. With a casual flair, he turned around on the banister and went into the kitchen.

For a moment, she was nearly insulted with the way he just casually ignored her, but remembered that their silence was due to her. It was she that told him just to _forget it ever happened_. Perhaps, after speaking with Remus, he deserved another chance. She truly missed the lighter feeling in the house and knew that nothing was going to improve, unless she started to chip down that wall she'd built up around them.

Hermione watched the door swing after him like the pendulum of a clock, counting the seconds before he reemerged. Her eyes burned into the wooden carvings, sealing the memory of an Adonis wearing a fitted maroon sweater and blue jeans cut just for him. With a heavier swing of the door, the Adonis was back and he carried a book under his arm to go upstairs to read.

She caught her breath, fearful that might miss the opportunity to speak to him, "Why don't you read down here?"

Her voice tore through the intense silence in the room, finally breaking down mental walls they had built between each other. Like unspoken torture, he felt relief lifting from his shoulders as he stopped on the first step. With a curious mind, he slowly turned around to face her. Though he heard her quite clearly, being the only sound in the room other than the whispering portraits settling in for the night, he wanted her to repeat her invitation.

"I said, why don't you read down here with me? I rather enjoyed it…when we did that night," she added.

She moved her legs from the last cushion on the couch, freeing up a spot for him to join her. Her hopeful eyes met his, as if silently surrendering her vow of silence from him.

"Don't mind the company?" he asked as he moved slowly to the couch, waiting for a catch.

"I'd love it, actually," she confirmed sincerely.

Sirius watched how she offered up space on the couch and couldn't help but smirk when he saw a hint of her bare feet curling innocently under her like a young child. He bowed his head in his thoughts, hiding the smirk-now-grin from her view as he thought of something very indecent he could do to her toes.

Taking a deep breath, preparing himself to just sit next to her, he thought it couldn't hurt. Sure, he was taunting himself with a girl that didn't know what she wanted, but as he said before, he was ready for the game.

He settled in on the couch, careful not to touch her legs, feet or any of her personal space and opened his book to where he left off. After a few minutes of their reading silence, Hermione's eyes drifted up from the pages of her book to admire his handsome profile. His nose was carved perfectly, not crooked like Severus's. His hair of various lengths started to fall from the ponytail he had at the nape of his neck, into his peripheral. He raised a hand to tuck the loose strands behind his ears, noticing her staring at him. He turned his head to glance over and catch her in mid admiration, but she quickly recovered by directing her attention back to her book.

_A spark._

There was no doubt what he'd caught her doing, she was looking at him. Not just looking, _staring. _The side of his mouth curved into an approving smirk he hid from her. He feigned interest in going back to his book, but after a few seconds he could see her peering over her forgotten pages, again.

Then all of a sudden, the bashful witch couldn't take the silence anymore. She'd really called him over so she could start talking to him again. She had given herself time to mull over what Remus had said, believing that maybe she should ignore her "what is right" theory and listen to her instinct. Only, that motto could only be partially taken to heart, because that little inside voice in the back of her head, that instinct, was telling her to keep reading her book..._on his lap_.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. It felt good to begin.

Engrossed in a paragraph with crucial details of the stalker, he was pleasantly interrupted, "For?"

_Damn it. Why did he have to make her draw it out?_

"For avoiding you, like I have been," she explained.

"Ah, so you have been avoiding me," he confirmed, closing the book on his lap to give her his undivided attention.

"I'm sorry. I was just afraid."

"Afraid of what? That I might bite you?" he playfully winked.

"Perhaps," she smiled at his tease.

"Do I frighten you?" he asked with a cautious voice.

She hesitated for a moment, but then confirmed, "No."

That was her answer, plain and simple. She didn't feel like now was the time to bring up the fact that his old prowling ways concerned her, nor did she touch on the reputation he held, but perhaps that was enough, for the time being. Maybe that was her inner voice playing with fire, by answering with such a simple and solid answer. You've walked by the tree Eve; now take a bite of the delicious red apple.

Sirius nodded to himself, turning his face away in thought. He dabbled with pushing it further, but thought to just leave it at that. He was sitting next to a very attractive young witch that invited him to read with her. He was home, alive, around friends and there was too much to think about when the stalking vixen was just meeting her nemesis, in the novel he was into.

The portraits around them craned their necks so far, they were practically hanging out of their frames in order to eavesdrop on the two house occupants. By the looks of it, Sirius had gotten back into his book, casually draping an arm over her covered legs. Hermione gave a light smile and returned to hers in silence, as well. As if they'd come to a mutual agreement, they continued on with their readings, pleased to be returning to the way they were.


	12. Misconceptions

_A note from Serade Black: Well, we're trucking along here. It's starting to pick up speed and I'm so grateful to those that have hung on so far. I ensure you that you shouldn't be disappointed. As you know, I like to draw things out and I try to really make it worth the punch. _

_Those with the critical reviews – thank you, they help._

_This story is more than just a "Sirius, get on with it, smack that girl and make her realize" fic. It's going to flush out into more detail. I haven't forgotten the chapter on the Snape sooo, not a Snape/Hr shipper chapter, don't worry, it's there to establish their past romance. _

_Enjoy the tale – I'll see you at BOTH Phoenix Rising and Prophecy 2007!_

_SB_

Chapter 12

_**MISCONCEPTIONS**_

Saturday morning was quick to come. It was the only good thing about being an Auror-In-Trainng for Hermione, as the "field work" didn't have normal days off. Death Eaters and dark wizards didn't take days off, so why should they?

She'd only been out there less than a dozen times to actually follow along in her lessons with the Ministry, all of which never had a normal work week. There were still many tests and protocols to learn before you were set free as an independent. Both she and Ron still had at least six months Ministry duties to fulfill, before moving on to the next level. So, until then, their weekends were free unless they were required to come in.

The past couple of mornings, Hermione took a little more time on her appearance when she ventured downstairs for her morning tea. Instead of just throwing her hair in a messy bun, she actually ran a comb through her curls to keep it down. With another cinch on the knot on her robe, she nearly skipped down the stairs into the kitchen.

She walked into a pleasant picture that intended for Harry. Like a muggle family portrait, she saw Sirius leaning against the counter, smiling at his long time friend as he offered him a cup. It was a snapshot of so many words that she felt honored to be sharing the room with the two men. Had Harry been in her shoes to come across such a picture, he would have beamed to believe his father had something to do with their unity.

Hermione walked further into the kitchen to see if her tea cup was ready to be fixed, or if Remus had known her to be on her way downstairs. It appeared that her housemate had gotten in quite late the night before and was just waking up himself. His slow moving morning had prevented his extra sense to alert him of Hermione coming down and had only been able to fix Sirius a cup of tea, before his own.

"That's all right, Remus. I can still do it, myself. Let me make yours," she suggested, walking around him toward the cupboard that held the mugs.

Sirius happened to be standing right in front of the cupboard, doing his best to keep the counter from rising off the two hundred-year-old foundation it sat on. His elbows propped him up as he relaxed like a James Dean portrait. He was well aware of being in her direct line of business, making a better wall than a ladder, and didn't seem too anxious to move. Instead, he just smirked as she leaned over his shoulder to open the cupboard door and take out what she needed.

"You could have made it easier on me and moved, you know," she remarked sarcastically.

He caught that wavering grin sneak over her lips as she avoided looking at him, "I couldn't be bothered."

She ducked her head to hide her smile and went over to start business with the kettle. Remus glanced over at Sirius to see what mood he was in for saying what he did. It appeared that Sirius had meant it in jest and knew that she wasn't going to take offense to anything, at this point. They'd had their little "talk". With a silent understanding, Remus just nodded and looked over at Hermione who was just tapping the kettle with her wand she'd retrieved from her robe pocket.

"So, yes?" Remus inquired.

Hermione looked back towards the voice and furrowed her brow, "Yes, what?"

"Yes, to the match?"

"The match...the match," she thought back. "Oh, the match! Harry's match! Oh, that's right he's playing tonight in South Hampton! I completely forgot about that. I've just been so occupied this week-"

"Good, you're going! When can you be ready by?" Sirius asked, pushing himself off the counter and walking around the kitchen to plan their day. "The match is at six, so that gives us plenty of pub time and maybe a run around the port for a bit. Yeah?"

Hermione was pleased to see Sirius so excited about seeing Harry in the match. It was going to be one of many firsts for him and it was indeed to be memorable. The way he walked around the room like a kid planning out how he was going to sneak up on Santa Claus come Christmas was just too endearing to turn her eyes away from. Even wearing sleeping pants and a t-shirt, the man still was as handsome as a school boy fresh from Hogwarts.

"Well, it's nearly ten now, I say we get out of here by noon and we'll be in good shape. Remus, Tonks is joining us, right?" Hermione confirmed, handing a cup to him as she questioned.

"Yes, she's managed to finagle a Saturday off from the Ministry, so she could probably make it here by then," Remus nodded as he sipped his tea carefully.

The afternoon plans were made. They were going to go as a foursome to see Harry play in South Hampton that evening. The few days prior, they'd received an urgent owl notifying them of the Cannon's win in Bulgaria, that it took them by way of South Hampton to play there. He'd also included a few comp tickets to sit in the press box; special V.I.P. tickets that were only given to family and friends of the players. Unfortunately, Ron and Ginny were unable to go, since they otherwise had a family gathering with Fleur and Bill being in town. As soon as it was mentioned at the dinner table those few nights ago, Sirius nearly choked at the chance to see him play and was already making plans for that weekend. At the time, Sirius and Hermione weren't really talking, so she'd managed to make up a bogus excuse why she wasn't going to be able to attend. It was a pretty weak one and Remus was able to see right through it. She'd blamed it on working at the Ministry that weekend, but he'd also found out through Kingsley that she was in no way needed to come in for anything extra. Learning this and noticing the obvious change that she and Sirius could tolerate each other again, he challenged her for a second time.

Of course, the way Sirius's eyes followed her every step around the kitchen was reason enough to believe that they'd cooled off. Sirius had had enough time to consider her and with the way Hermione practically blushed with his quirky remark, he'd noticed that his friend wasn't exactly invisible to her. The idea of a possible relationship between them mattered none to Remus, only he worried for his friend's sake, if he only knew who's shoes he was going to have to follow.

Up until now, she would attend secret meet-ups with Snape that just consisted of talks over a glass of wine with no strings. They'd both decided that it'd be best not to be together anytime during this war they were involved in, but an occasional shag just to relax the muscles had happened once or twice since their official break-up. Hermione had already started to pick up the pieces over their mutual decision, which is why she wasn't feeling too much guilt over a harmless kiss in the kitchen with Sirius. She wasn't involved with anyone and the last time she shared Snape's bed was at least a month before Sirius came home. Besides, it was mostly Harry she was concerned for; that's where the guilt was settling in

Would another kiss occur? It was not determined. There was no telling what, and if, anything was going to develop between the unlikely two. In the meantime, a blind person could see that there was definitely something lingering, and it wasn't just because of the hardcore eye flirtation that the two were trying to disguise, right under Remus's nose.

By noon, Sirius was standing at the door, ready to go like a Knight Bus driver on a tight schedule. He rambled on about the time, offering empty threats about how he was going to leave behind anyone who wasn't ready.

"Do you really think that's necessary, Sirius?" Tonks asked as she came from the kitchen with Remus.

"It sure as hell is. Hermione, come on!" He bellowed through the ages old house.

Remus just shook his head as he watched his friend elect such an obnoxious personality so fast. In order to tune him out, he took to offering a friendly hand to his female companion, gently squeezing it to confirm that as much as he found Sirius's calls unnecessary and irritating, he was still pleased to have him back with warm blood in the house.

"Sirius Black, hold your tongue! I wasn't going to be late, but your insistent yelling reminds me a lot of your mother," Hermione chirped, coming down the stairs.

He blinked a few times when he noticed her form fitting attire as she came down the stairs. Wearing low riding jeans, sporty boots, and a Chudley Cannon's t-shirt that pulled against her bosom in a way that proved her to be nothing of a gawky fifteen-year-old girl, he swallowed a dry hard lump in his throat.

His moment of weakness nearly made him miss his chance for a proper defense, "Take that back, I am nothing like my mother."

She ignored him and passed along with a sarcastic smirk on her lip. She went right to the door and mused, "I don't know. If you're not careful, we might put your portrait in the attic, covered with a blanket."

"I thought you got rid of that," he inquired, following her out the front door of Grimmauld Place.

She turned around on the front stoop to inform, "Well, in case you came back, I needed some kind of leverage."

Sirius slammed the door shut behind him as he watched the way her jeans hugged her rear in all the right places, "You are a clever witch. Wicked, but clever."

She glanced back at him when she reached the sidewalk, just to catch him flip back the loose black wisps falling into his face with a familiar flirtatious wink.

Halfway down the block, and halfway to their apparition point, Sirius had kept his feet in sync with hers as they walked alongside of each other. With a subtle friendly gesture, he lightly nudged her side to offer his elbow. She glanced down at him wearily, but snuck a slight grin nonetheless. He was just too handsome to deny with that smile that could melt a snowman and linked her arm through his, to walk closer.

"Good, because I plan on using you," he said with a low voice.

Her suspicions caused her grin to collapse into a frown when she asked, "How so?"

"To keep me warm, of course. It's chilly out today!" he genuinely remarked.

Hermione sighed to know that's all it was and not some other cruel joke he had in mind. She still had her reservations about getting closer to him, and made certain that she would keep a watchful eye and a smart head about her if anything progressed. Just because their elbows were touching was nothing more than a harmless way of using each others' body heat through the brisk breeze they were walking through.

The foursome met their apparition point alongside a dilapidated old phone box and took turns, two at a time, to enter. First Remus and Tonks then Hermione and Sirius, who made sure he kept a tight hold on the pretty young witch. Positioning themselves into such tight quarters might have seemed a little awkward if they hadn't already broken down a few mental walls around them. Hermione was forced to press herself close against Sirius in a face to face fashion, where Sirius made clear that he held no objections whatsoever. This, of course, resulted in a slight pink hue to the witch's cheeks that when they emerged from the apparition, they tore apart like two love birds having been caught, and unnecessary guilt fell over her face in front of Remus and Tonks.

Remus gave Sirius a sly look, but Sirius quipped, "I didn't touch her, she just can't handle my animal magnetism."

Hermione's mouth gaped at such a notch on his belt that she threatened to tear her arm away from him. A quick chuckle and her arm was back through his.

They were escorted to their seats in the special V.I.P. box. It was a perfect viewing level, compared to where they sat for the world cup all those years ago Though Arthur Weasely had scored some excellent seats, this set up was far better.

It was like a long windowless box with two tiers of seating, a small table for each party and an elegant leaning rail with soft cushioning about four feet before it. The railing ran right along the front of the room, having been offered to everyone sharing the box, but comfortable private seating in a half circle, overlooking the field, should spectators choose to sit through the match.

As the usher showed them their half circle, it was already furnished with a chilling bottle of champagne, small gift bags and other refreshments. Several house elves walked around taking drink orders, as they balanced a wide circle tray on their heads with empty steins.

There was a time when Hermione would otherwise object to such cruelty, but as she learned their sole purpose to serve the wizard families and companies that employed them, she seemed to settle on her otherwise radical behavior. It was what they did and, to her surprise, what they rather enjoyed.

Taking their seats, Sirius grabbed a handful of peanuts and chucked a few in his mouth as he went over to survey the lean posts of the long V.I.P. box. The ledge hung over other normal seated fans that were otherwise unfortunate to sit in normal seating, only to look above, below or around them to see how "the other half lived". Having been a bit of celebrity himself, when Sirius leaned over to test the padded railing, a couple of girls squealed when they saw him checking out the view. They cat-called to him, which only added to his ego, and tried their hardest to lure him down to their level. A quick wink pacified them for a little while, until he would give the girls another tease and lean over later in the match.

They were just settling in their seats and a house elf was tending to them promptly, ready to take refreshment orders. Sirius was impressed with such service and immediately started to ramble on an order for the group. When it appeared that the little house elf might have been a little overwhelmed, Hermione was quick to interject and shorten the order on the elf's first trip.

When the house elf was out of earshot, she whispered to the group, "It's not necessary to load him up so quickly, besides we'll have him all night."

"There's that cause, again," Sirius chirped, falling into the seat next to her and casually resting an arm around the back of Hermione's seat.

She had every intention of giving him a good, sardonic reply, but instead found her eyes lingering over his thighs for a moment too long. Thankfully, Sirius was drawn to the rest of the company of the room than to notice her oogling his form. She quickly cleared her throat to collect herself and gave a quick observation over the room, herself.

Their room was in plain open sight for all those with binoculars across the field to see inside and to conclude that it was a safe haven for celebrities and politicians; refuge from the outside commoner's eyes that provided ample shelter to those that were there to enjoy the match.

"Care to make a wager?" Sirius inquired, standing up to peer over the lean bar and onto the lower field where the Veelas were.

"You'd bet against Harry's own team?" Hermione questioned.

"Why not? Makes it interesting, wouldn't you think?" Sirius turned to lean his elbows against the spectator's bar. He had caught those teenage witches craning their necks into the box to see him, so he decided to give them a little thrill and tease them.

"Why not, I'm in," Remus announced as he took his butterbeer from the house elf who was quick to return.

"Sure, I'll throw some in, too," Tonks chuckled as she nearly spilled her butterbeer all over the house elf's head.

"Excellent…and what about you?" Sirius insisted as he bowed his head and narrowed his eyes on Hermione with a smirk.

Hermione smiled, nearly appalled about the bet but shook her head and gave in, "Fine, what's the wager?"

Sirius lifted his chin; letting a few wisps fall over his cheeks, "For them it's money, but for you..." he lifted a finger for her to come over to him.

It appeared that he had something else in mind for her gamble. She bit her lip and glanced over at Remus and Tonks who otherwise, just gave her a shrug of their shoulders. A little embarrassed that she was singled out, she stood up to go over to Sirius. He was relentless and as she moved in, he kept on beckoning her closer with his finger. When she practically up against him, he leaned in and whispered into her ear.

"For you, if I win, then you have to read me poetry from my book," he whispered.

Hermione pulled away with a furrowed brow, amused, "Is that all?"

Sirius lowered his eyes down at her attire, noting to himself that she did look quite fetching in that tight t-shirt she wore, "Naked."

"What?!" she squeaked. "Sirius Black, I will do no such thing, no deal," she declared.

She feigned angry, but wasn't convincing enough with that firm grin. The very idea that he had suggested such a scene between the two of them was a little too suggestive. Though it played on a possible fantasy, his words were far too bold.

"Then barefoot, at least," he amended with a raised eyebrow.

His dark eyes of a predator burned into her, waiting for her to push the envelope and see if she'd take the bait. Her rosy colored cheeks were undeniable and he waited patiently to see how she was going to handle his alternative. The game continued and he was more than willing to play with his toy.

"Barefoot? That's a turn on for you?" she asked, glancing down to his lips for a brief second. One second too long. The last time they were that close, they stood in front of a pantry.

"You have no idea," he mused.

The hint of her perfume was quickly becoming an aphrodisiac for him. He'd caught that glance and was prepared to play with it.

"I've gone barefoot lots of times around the house," she hinted with a quirked eyebrow of her own.

"I've noticed."

There barely remained safe space between them, but to their observing company, it was apparent that their attraction was building. The mood was back to normal and though they insisted on playing their little game to test the other, it was obvious that whatever had cleared the air was quite a relief.

Remus could see they were putting themselves in a dangerous position, so he broke the silence with a drink, "Butterbeer?"

Hermione allowed her train of thought to be broken by the vocal reminder that there were several others in the room with them. As sinister as his eyes were on her, playing on her flirt, a quidditch match was not the most romantic setting. Or was it?

Sirius watched Hermione fidget as she stood close to him, trying her damnest to hold her own before she went too close to the flame as the moth she was portraying. He hadn't missed those thoughtful eyes that told him she was thinking of the kitchen kiss. The way she bit the inside of her lip had convinced him of her train of thought. Had they been alone that moment, he might have been bold enough to try and re-enact said kiss before the opportunity passed them by. Instead, she turned away first, going back to her seat and retrieving her butterbeer from the overworked house elf.

Nearly a quarter into the game, the room's energy was collectively on fire. Everyone was standing, cheering, making friends with the neighboring seated alcoves and generally having one hell of time. The leaning bars had gotten a lot of action and nearly everyone was pressed up against it, leaving no space untouched, watching every play like it might be the last. It was a close game and both Seekers were very good, breaking past records of their own team.

With everyone sharing the leaning bar, it was getting louder and a bit more rowdy with the hooligans endangering themselves, and others around them, with copious amounts of Fire whisky. Sirius took the opportunity to step back and position himself behind Hermione, where he could act as a protector, should someone get too out of hand. Even in the V.I.P. box where favored respected fans were permitted to sit, everyone had that quidditch hooligan that resided in them.

Three wizards in particular, probably late twenties, had taken to glancing over in their direction. Since it was obvious that his purple haired cousin wasn't available with the way Remus had his hands around her waist, Hermione was the next tasty dish in their direction. She'd long since shed her jacket, showing off her attractive slender figure under the t-shirt and hugging pants. He, himself felt quite proud to be standing next to her giving a few threatening looks back at the two peeping wizards.

He'd made a wise decision to stay close to her, for when Cannon's chaser scored, she reached back and grabbed him by his shirt in excitement. He'd found her team spirit endearing and barked with laughter with the way she was practically diving over the lean bar.

The Cannon's were barely in the lead by only ten points and if either team had caught the snitch, it would have been close. The fans were beside themselves, especially the ones near the V.I.P, box, they seemed to feel that they were some of the elite as well, just being able to "high-five" a few fellow fans within reaching distance.

Hermione half turned behind her, so that she could mention something to Sirius, "I think it's going to be YOU who's reading ME poetry!"

Sirius chuckled, loving the way her hand casually draped against his chest in her half turn. He felt permission to lean closer behind her, letting her body press against his and her hipbone against this thigh.

"You think so, Granger?" Sirius teased, grinning ear to ear as he looked down at the pretty young witch who stood tightly against him.

She grinned knowingly and turned around completely to face him, "I do and when Harry catches the snitch, I'll be picking out a title."

"Will I be naked, then?" he couldn't help but play.

She still rested a hand against his chest and her body was completely up against his as he moved in tighter, pressing her back against the lean bar. The fans around them seemed to drown out as they bantered back and forth amongst the wildness. The room was filled, and yet they felt like the only two that were having a conversation worth missing the last play. Hermione could feel that flutter in her heart the way she got nervous when there was something that was testing her; in this case, it happened to be a thirty-six year-old wizard with dashing dark eyes and stubble on his chin that was finely defined by a clean jaw line.

"I haven't decided," she replied.

Sirius didn't flinch, he never even blinked, but his small grin turned into a wide smile. He was studying her, like a perplexed puzzle he wasn't sure how to solve. Hermione on the other hand, knew that she was playing with fire and if she didn't turn around quick, she was going to find herself reaching for his neck and pulling his face forward so that she could kiss him the way she did in her latest dream.

Instead, she managed to spin around in time, feeling him press closer behind her and reaching for the lean bar, trapping her to him. She had no objection to feeling his groin press against her back; in fact she humored the notion of teasing him a little. But, her subconscious won over and concluded that it wasn't a wise decision, since there were just too many sets of eyes in the room.

One set of eyes in particular were coming their way on his broom, flying over the crowds and aiming for the V.I.P. box. Right before he practically flew inside the room, Harry hovered on his broom in front of his friends, giving them a proper yell and wave. Sirius reached his arm out to slap his godson's hand and when Harry reached back the entire world saw Sirius Black smiling proud on the big projection screens around the stadium. The immense reaction was insane as they whistled and hooted and over a few chants, you heard the word: BLACK!

Harry smiled gleefully as he saw the four important people in his life cheering him on, having a good time and enjoying the company. He took no notice to the way Sirius and Hermione were pressed up together and thought nothing of it, other than a normal crowd gathering for a quidditch match.

Hermione spun around in Sirius's captivity and shouted, "He's so pleased that you're here, Sirius. Did you see his face? He's going to win this match just for you!"

Sirius was absolutely lifted. He was so proud of the young James look-a-like that he nearly got emotional about it, secretly wishing that Harry's father could see him. He knew that in the Heaven's above, James was looking down, probably clucking his tongue at the way he cleverly positioned a hand to rest on Hermione's waist, but mostly just glowing with pride as his only son was living the life he'd always dreamed of.

The game played on for at least another half hour, until Harry was dead on following the glowing gold shimmer that had just caught his eye down on the grassy field. He faked a sharp turn to go over by the referee stand, in order to distract the other seeker, and then took a dangerous dive just coasting the ground before he managed to nab the snitch in one hand.

"Potter has captured the snitch, the Chudley Cannon's win the match!" cried the announcer, obviously bias to which team he wanted by the way his voice rang with excitement.

The entire V.I.P. booth erupted in crazed madness over the Chudley win. It was apparent that most of those seated in the box, except for a select brooding few, were fans of Harry's team. People started to sing the fight song, girls were squealing, men were "high-fiving", and Remus and Tonks were swept up in the overall emotion. Hermione yelled with excitement and turned around in Sirius's grasp to embrace him in a big bear hug.

He caught her tightly, cherishing the way she squeezed him around his neck, nearly jumping into his arms. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight as he lifted her up so that her feet were barely touching the floor. He felt her bosom press against his chest in a way that seemed to erupt a small calling to him and without warning, set her down on her feet and lifted a hand to her cheek…

…and kissed her.

Right there, in the open, in front of all to see, if anyone was looking. He kissed her hard, rough and without mercy. Eagerly, she opened her mouth for him, urging him to force himself on her like a hungry animal. He answered her call with a swift slip of his tongue and nipped her lip when he pulsed back to take a quick breath. She hugged him tighter, pressing herself against him so tightly you'd think her energy was coming from him like a battery source.

Her nimble fingers ran through his silky locks, tugging lightly in her excitement. His hand slipped around her neck to guide her mouth this way and that, controlling her like a favorite puppet. She was delicious to his tongue, so much better than their first kiss, but that was probably due to the amount of adrenaline pumping through them over the win. Although, it seemed quidditch was not on their minds as they fed into each other like starving plants to water.

Remus was just pulling away from Tonks and caught the elaborate show in the corner of his eye. No one else noticed the scene, for to anyone else they didn't matter. It was obvious that the two had made up, but the sweeping emotion that plagued them now, might be regret in a very short time.

The room erupted again, raising the volume high enough you'd think another snitch was caught right after the other. Rather, it was the star Seeker himself, just entering the V.I.P. box to greet his friends.

"Harry!" Tonks shouted, pushing past Remus and brushing past Sirius.

The sound of the name startled Hermione and she pulled away from Sirius faster than the snap of a mousetrap. Sirius also pulled his arms away, trying to offer her the personal space she was quickly trying to gain. She found her breath short, nearly panting from the emotional display and felt her cheeks redden like radishes. She smelled him all over her hands, her clothes, her hair and she quickly tried to erase his taste by wiping her mouth of the excess kiss. Without a glance behind, she brushed passed him and met Harry with a tremendous hug and kiss on the cheek.

She immediately felt guilt for what she'd allow to happen and was quick to remedy such an action. Harry opened his arms as he saw his best friend break through the crowd to greet him and welcomed the way she practically jumped into his arms. He believed her affections to be from the game, when actually it was because she felt so much heated betrayal, she needed to make it up to herself.

_It's wrong. It's so very wrong._

Hermione held her best friend tight, feeling his arms enclose her like a protector, and praying to herself that he didn't see her with Sirius. If Harry found out, there's no telling how he'd react and with all her reservations, she wasn't sure if she even wanted to admit that what she just felt with Sirius made her fall for him, even more. The idea of the two of them might set Harry off to a rambling of misunderstandings, and unfortunately the lust for his godfather was just going to have to be a burden she endured.

Sirius couldn't explain why the young witch he was sharing a pleasant, sexy kiss with left him so abruptly. He'd heard Harry's name, he'd felt the same tinge of guilt, but rather than run up to greet him, he wanted to take a deep breath. Unlike Hermione, who fled his company as fast as the crowd could part for her. Sirius just needed to take a moment and evaluate what he just did and see if it improved their situation or made it worse.

A glance back at Remus told him that only he was the one to notice her abrupt departure and found nothing out of the ordinary. He then turned to see where she went and when the picture unfolded before him, he paled.

He never would have thought, he never really even considered that it was a possibility, but it was all laid out before him. As Harry came inside the room with all of his fanfare, he had his epiphany. It was like someone just doused him with water, that he felt the sudden awakening of the reality of the situation. All of Hermione's reserved actions around him, the way she said she was "afraid", the way she avoided him after they shared that forbidden kiss in the kitchen…it all made sense; Sirius was just too blind to notice it.

Hermione held Harry close, whispering in his ear, giving him a good laugh with whatever it was she was saying to him. His arms were wrapped around her in the gentlest manner like one does a cherished piece. It was there in their eyes, in their body language, in their whispers.

Hermione was with Harry.


	13. Stunning Realizations

_A note from Serade Black: My apologies for any spelling errors on this one. It appears that my spellcheck was in-op for this particular document, so again, my apologies. _

_Thank you to those that have given me encouraging reviews - they are great. I twisted a few of you around with my last cliffhanger, but don't worry, all is cleared up (for you, anyway) in this chapter. It was no mistake, it was just fuel for the story._

_Enjoy_

_SB_

**Stunning Realizations**

_**Chapter 13**_

_Hermione and Harry?_

Sirius cursed himself for being so absolutely blind. It was right there under his nose. Why wouldn't she go with him? Why wouldn't he go with her? There was no mistaking that they were made for each other, more so than she being interested in Ron all those years back. That just seemed to be an odd pairing.

The slow, brooding guilt started to melt into his bones like butter, and a nauseous churning began in his stomach. He felt absolutely awful for playing on her, the way he had. He'd touched her, he'd held her, and he'd tasted her lips like a starving lover and none of it belonged to him. It all belonged to the only one that mattered to him. His godson, his own best friend's blood, the one that looked up to him as a father figure. He'd come in, tempted the young witch and tried to lure her away.

_Didn't she say she wasn't with anyone?_

A bit ago, when he'd first noticed the new Hermione, she was fixing dinner and his conversation led into her personal life. He was curious, just for conversation sake, if she was with anyone. The mere idea of pursuing her might have flirted with his mind, but it was never something he would consider. Well, not until she asked for him to kiss her down in the kitchen. Thinking back, he was sure she said she wasn't with anyone.

"_Hermione, might I be so bold to ask if you're with anyone?" _

_She glanced back over at him, as if he had just spoken in an obscure language, but answered just the same, "Not right now." She dropped her fine cut carrots into the stew and continued, "I just got out of a relationship, not too long ago. Why do you ask?"_

"_Just curious," he replied, turning away and facing the kitchen table in the center of the room for a new sense of direction._

So, the break was still fresh, he thought to himself. Watching the way several praised Harry and all his efforts to help the Cannons win that match. Hermione seemed to be glowing, ever proud of Harry, like she always was. She seemed to have this protective nature about her, she always did, and that's what made her so alluring.

The walls around Sirius started to feel like they were closing in, the sounds and volume of voices in the room were getting louder and his ears more and more sensitive. He was getting paranoid. Paranoid to have Harry discover Sirius, his one trusted guardian, had made obvious moves on his girl, or ex-girl as it were. He needed to back away; take a minute to himself. Slowly, he found himself stepping backwards to sit at a small abandoned table, to think out his thoughts.

Hermione was so proud of her friend, he was truly a star, "Harry, you were incredible out there! That was such an excellent game!"

"Did you see the way that Bulgarian chaser just went pale with my feigning? I thought he was going to fall off his broom!" Harry chuckled, elated with the adrenaline running through him.

Hermione smiled and hugged her friend while wearing both guilt and pride on her sleeve. Harry seemed to have not noticed, which was a good thing. For him to walk into such a scene and not be ready for it, would probably have knocked him out. So, as Hermione hugged her friend affectionately, she wanted nothing more than to let him bask in his moment. It was the only thing that he truly bragged about, if anything, finally being remembered for something other than The Chosen One.

Hermione's eyes drifted over to her old place next to Sirius. He seemed to have this somewhat surprised look on his face, as if someone just informed him of some horrifying news. He looked pale and noticed that he kept running a hand through his hair. He looked uncertain, as if he was nervous about the same as she. He, too, appeared to be concerned for how Harry would have taken it if he'd noticed his own godfather with his younger best friend.

Should she and Sirius allow themselves such liberties, it needed to be discussed. Although, that topic proved to be a very dangerous topic.

"Where's Sirius?" Harry asked, looking to Hermione for answers.

She didn't see him sit down and concluded that he'd left the room already, "I don't know where he went. He was right there, but maybe he dashed off to the loo, or something,"

"I was hoping to talk to him, I guess I'll see him in a few. Come on, let's get to the pub!" Harry annouced, getting Remus and Tonks' attention.

"Sirius, you all right, mate?" Remus asked as he started to follow everyone out of the box to go celebrate.

Sirius was sitting silent, his face turned and his arm bent to rest his chin on his hand. He appeared to be deep in thought, somewhere else, not even noticing that the room was clearing out.

The trouble-minded one glanced up at his friend, "Yeah, I'll follow you, I just need a moment to think, that's all."

"I should have warned you, but you wouldn't open up to me, mate. I know how you get and I know that you feel odd about it all," Remus consoled.

"Remus, I'll be along soon," he replied.

Remus specualted that his friend's concern was just over Hermione, not his misconception of Hermione being with Harry in the past. Respecting his request, Remus left Sirius alone and followed the rowdy group out.

Sirius couldn't face Harry, not now, anyway. Nor could he really face Hermione who fled his arms so fast, you'd think he had some contageious disease. But, the way she clutched onto him with so much passion, made him wonder why she allowed him such freedom. Was she doing something against Harry? Was she even capable of such betrayal to someone so close?

The wizard just sort of smirked as he appraised all of what had happened thus far and came up with one final conclusion: _she was a woman, afterall._

Hermione Granger proved to be no different than any other woman he'd known. Even the innocent, more wholesome girls had a dark streak. It appeared that the clever witch had played him correctly, feeding off their attraction, and allowing him such liberties thus far.

He was done. There'd be no more games. Harry meant too much to him, and he made the immediate decision to just wash his hands of it all. Should something come up that Harry had discovered their interlude, he'd be honest and open, explaining to his godson that he'd had no knowledge of their past and to accept that it wasn't going to happen again.

Hopefully, Harry would forgive him.

oo0o00oo0oo

Two days later, Sirius was so kind to grace Grimmauld Place with his presence. A wild weekend binging with a witch he'd met at a pub had left him warn out and absolutely spent. It wasn't planned, but it wasn't unwelcomed either.

After everyone had vacated the room, Siruis finally left his sulking self behind and went to try and find the nearest pub that he believed his friends might have gone. To no surprise to him, finding anyone he knew in any of the surrounding pubs would have been similar to finding a needle in a haystack – the pubs were all jammed packed.

So, throwing in the white flag of pub searches, he settled in one alone, planning to drink himself to a ridiculous level and probably find any old apparation point to go home from. Upon settling in, he happened to look down the bar and notice a familiar face. Said feminine familiar face saw him and gave him the fliritest of smiles, only to transport herself to the vacant seat next to him.

"Sirius Black, I heard you had returned," she said, tossing her small handbag on the bar and lighting a cigarette.

Sirius glanced over at the pretty older witch, he guessed her to be about five years older than him, but she still looked pretty good with her red hair and low cut shirt.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" Sirius asked lazily.

"Oh, we have," she smirked, flicking her cigarette. "But, it has been ages, my dear."

"I'm sorry, I can't reckon. You'll have to forgive me, I've been floating in oblivion for the last six years, humor me," he subjected.

"I'll paint a picture for you, I believe you were nineteen, and I was fifteen. I always watched you hang around your friends and one time, I actually ended smack dab between you and another. By chance, of course."

Sirius narrowed his brow in thought and with a slight tilt as he signaled the bartender to bring two more beers, he took the bait, "Was it Remus or Peter?"

"The other cute one, the one with the scars on his face."

As if it was slowly coming back to him, Sirius nodded slowly trying to recall the picture, "That'd be Remus."

"Yes, that's his name. I've seen him around Hogsmeade now and then. He's got himself a pretty young thing, now."

"That'd be my cousin," he added, trying to place this witch in his mind. "Hmm, are you...Greta?"

"Yes! You do remember!"

Sirius was relieved that his memory was partially intact from his Veil travels, but as he looked down at her, he then started to replay the evening in question. She was a lot younger, as was he, and they were a lot more open with their relationships than they were now. Times had changed and people do grow up – and out, in her case.

"Yes, I remember," he nodded, believing that his night was going to slightly improve.

The rest of the evening consisted of quite a few pints, a short walk back to her flat and familiar, much needed sex. He held his rule not to go home with a strange witch, so it was lucky for him to have met her there, as she was the first in a very long time to relieve his long stretch of suffering. No strings attatched, just a good old fashioned weekend of hard fucking, trying to erase all the anger, anxiety and guilt that angered him.

Come Monday night, he'd finally had enough and though she wanted him to stay longer, the idea of finishing out the week with such an unhealthy diet wasn't as attractive as it once was in his more irresponsible days. He'd come in, wearing the same clothes he'd had on from the match, just in time to catch Remus walking halfway up the stairs.

When he'd heard the door open, he turned around to see Sirius and immediately flew back down to the first level to lay it on, "Where the hell have you been, Sirius? My god, everyone's been worried sick!"

"Don't lecture me, Remus, I'm fine and I've been fine. Just, lay off," he calmed, holding his arms up in a defensive manner.

"You truly disappointed Harry, Sirius. He wanted to see you after the match, but you were nowhere to be found. You can't keep failing him, mate, he needs you," Remus spat.

"Harry's fine. I'll make it up to him," Sirius sighed.

He did feel a little ashamed for his whereabouts, but considering the situation, he made it seem all right.

"Where the hell were you?" Remus insisted.

"I was busy," Sirius started, not meeting his friend in the eye, "with an old friend."

"Do I dare ask who?"

Sirius raised his eyebrows, not sure how his friend was going to take it, "Greta Shollmaker?"

As if he couldn't have said a dirtier name, Remus cringed, "You didn't! Oh, Sirius, you have no idea."

"What, Moony?"

"Sirius, she's been around Hogsemeade so much –"

"Nevermind, I don't want to know!" Sirius stopped, pushing passed his friend to go upstairs.

"What about Hermione, Sirius?" Remus bluntly asked.

Remus turned his body to face the inviting stairs as Sirius started to stomp up them like a punished toddler. Once he'd mentioned Hermione's name, he stopped. Sirius took a few moments and just shook his head. It appeared that his body language was answering for him. His heart couldn't help but feel a slight pang from the betrayal to Harry and the otherwise unknown fancy he had for Hermione.

"There's nothing with Hermione," he denied and finished up the stairs.

Remus sighed and dropped his hands to his sides in quiet, calm frustration. He really didn't want to be in the middle of a soap opera. Nor, did he wish to lecture Sirius anymore, at this time. He just knew that all of this had to choose a direction, instead of allowing such irresponsible play to happen under this roof. He'd made the decision that after Sirius got some sleep, he'd confront him on the burning issue. It wasn't fair to either friend, but mostly, it wasn't fair to poor Hermione who'd had enough pain of seperating herself from Snape. She'd admitted that she loved him, but the stress of the war was slowly pulling her away. In the longrun, she knew that they were not meant to be, and for the few months that it lasted, it was enjoyed without any regrets. Now, as she was finally over the break, she discovers another that was literally on her doorstep without any explanation. Remus thought them to be a decent couple, if Sirius could learn to straighten his ways and fess up to what he was playing with, rather than treat it so passivley like it didn't matter. The truth was, it did matter to his friend. Having known Sirius for so many years, he could see the weight he was carrying on his shoulders over her. It might not have been completely flushed out, but it was obvious that whatever he was thinking was doing summersaults, otherwise he would have opened up about it. Keeping the serious things private, was Sirius's problem.

Down below in the kitchen, Hermione had heard the front door slam and went to dash out to confront him. Instead, she stayed behind and listened as the two friends spoke. She'd heard that he was all right, not being in mortal peril or anything. Then, the short conversation started to discuss his whereabouts and it hit her. Like a punch to the stomach, her breath escaped her and she'd heard that he'd found confort in another woman's arms. Right after he'd kissed her so passioantely at the match, he took no time than to disappear and end up with another witch.

Then, the conversation continued and right when Hermione was able to take a breath, she'd heard his words clearly:

"_There's nothing with Hermione."_

Like a pained piercing, she felt her face frown almost into a sob. Could he be so cold to just conclude that? You don't kiss someone in a public display just because you're friends, that was insane. She sympathized that he was literally locked behind Black doors, but could he be so heartless to think that's how you treated someone? Hermione felt the urge to run out there and face him, hitting him against the chest, calling him vicious colorful names and just making him feel like absolute shit. Instead, she refrained, she controlled herself enough to not even shed a tear over it, and just take it at face value – an experience. There would be no more.

Hermione was done with him.

oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The young brunette witch sat at her cubical, going over some coded letters that were assigned to her to see if she could break them. They were written in a few suspected Death Eater's hands and she was pretty good at seeing the big picture. Ron, also on the same assignment, felt solitude with his muggle iPod and letters scattered around him, trying to piece something together in a different style. Hermione made no comment on the way he worked, she never did, knowing full well that he received that position as an Auror-in-training the same as her, and couldn't always bail him out in these circumstances. To her surprise, he was able to figure a few more clues to assist them on it and was grateful for the extra nudge.

The afternoon owls started to swoop in, passing memos, letters and future assignments around the department. One pretty owl with painted pink toe nails made a beeline to Hermione's desk and perched itself on the square cubical.

She hooted loudly, almost lyrical and fluttered a wing to get Hermione's attentions quicker. With a quirky look at the pink toe nails, Hermione offered the bird a treat and unfastened the note tied to her leg. When she sat down to read the letter, she thought she caught the owl checking itself out in its reflection of the window, but blamed it on her abstract thinking.

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_I write to you to request your assistance in an assignment. Through various contacts of wizards and witches that be that are employed by the Ministry, I have reached several dead ends on trying to make contact with one, Sirius Black. Learning of your passed relations with Harry Potter, and discovering that he still remains the legal godson to Mr. Black, I've concluded that you would know his whereabouts. I know Mr. Black would feel a great honor to be interviewed by the Daily Prophet and I see no one else, but myself, to offer such graces. Please see the enclosed appointment date, and advise Mr. Black of my insistance that he meet me. The pleasure would be both of ours._

_Best Regards,_

_Rita Skeeter, reporter_

_Daily Prophet_

When the letter started she could smell the expensive perfume on the parchment. There was no other guess who it could belong to and she felt a sneer coming on. She didn't want to be too rude and just throw out the letter, but she really didn't wish to even speak to Sirius right now. Perhaps she could give it to Remus and let him tell him about it. That way, she wouldn't have to see him. The very idea of him actually disgusted her right now, and though the wounds were fresh, she wasn't sure when she'd be ready.

He's Sirius Black and she should be ashamed of herself for thinking anything more about him in such a wrong manner. If her fifteen-year-old self could see her now, she'd go back and warn her to stop her pathetic little puppy dog crushes, before they got out of control.

0oo0o0o0o0oooo

"Hermione, is this how it's always going to be? Am I going to have to run between you two like a tennis ball?" Remus questioned.

She'd felt terrible for involving him in any of this, and knew he didn't ask to be, "Remus, please? I'll talk to him, I'm just not ready to. I mean, could he really be so thick?"

"Hermione, please, I don't want to talk about him. It's really unfair," he interjected, not wanting to get involved.

She paced in the kitchen without even realizing it, "No, you're right. Just give this to him and tell him to get in touch with her. Otherwise, just throw it away."

Hermione left the kitchen in a huff, eager to get back in her room before Sirius came home. She'd managed to avoid him enough, but then again, she thought maybe he was just staying out later, to avoid her just the same. Whatever it was, it was working and neither had caught each other anywhere in the house. Although, talking Remus into giving Sirius that letter was a really close call.

Sirius had come into the house in time to hear a door shut on the second floor, at the top of the stairs. A thought settled in him to know that he'd just missed an interaction with Hermione and was grateful for that last pint he'd just had at the muggle pub down the street. He went on into the kitchen, looking for something to nibble on since he was a bit hungry. He'd just caught Remus reading a letter and greeted his friend causally.

"Aye, mate," he greeted, going to the ice box, "what are you reading?"

Remus's eyes lifted to his friend coming into the kitchen. He watched Sirius toss his leather jacket over the back of a chair and continued on his pursuit of food.

"Something for you, actually," he chuckled as he pried.

Sirius popped his head up from the fridgerator with a drum stick in his mouth and a container of peanut butter in his hands.

"What is it?" Sirius mumbled, taking the chicken leg out of his mouth.

Remus paid no attention to what he was going to do with chicken and peanut butter, but walked over to hand him the note.

"This came to Hermione, but it's really for you," he said tapping his wand on the dirty dishes in the sink to begin their cleaning.

Sirius chewed away on his late night snack and read the letter to himself, "An interview, huh? Wow, and that bird wants to meet with me, excellent. Isn't she the one that wrote about Harry's romance with Hermione the first time?"

"Yes, but none of it was true. She just loves to exaggerate things," Remus cleared up as he dried his hands on a dish rag.

"Yes, well, we could nearly call her some kind of prophet, then. She called that one, though, eh?" Sirius suggested as he commented on Harry and Hermione's romance.

"What do you mean?"

"Harry and Hermione, they weren't together when she wrote the story, but they were recently, right?"

Remus chuckled to his friend as he saw what he was doing with the chicken leg and the peanut butter, "Hardly. They're too close. The idea of that, well, it's highly doubtful."

Sirius froze as he was about to take a bite out of the chicken leg, leaving his mouth agasp, "What?"

Remus could see the surprised look on his friend's face as if the realization was just seeping in. Challenging his friend, he raised an eyebrow in query.

"You didn't think Hermione and Harry?"

Sirius nodded blankly, as if it was completely obvious, but was realizing his grave mistake. His chicken leg laid forgotten on the plate, doused in peanut butter.

Remus's face dropped, "Don't tell me you really thought-"

"Why the hell do you think I've been such a dick, Remus? Of course, I did. I saw the way she was acting with him after the match. What else was I supposed to think?"

"No! She's always like that with him. She's like...she's like a sister to him and she's always been very protective. Harry's not even so much as kissed her, let alone date her. Really Sirius, get the facts first before going off and buggering the next slutty witch you meet in a pub," Remus accused as he felt a big heavy weight lift out of the air. The sing-song in his voice was proof that the air was clearing, once again.

Sirius stood up and wiped his face of a napkin, "I have to go and talk to her!"

"Sirius, don't. Now's not a good time. Why don't you think about what you're going to say to her, hell why don't you think about what you're going to do with her, before bursting into her room to say you're sorry," Remus convinced. "You are going to say you're sorry, aren't you?"

Sirius stopped just shy of the door and turned around, "Of course, I'm going to apologize. The way I treated her after the match, even I wouldn't stoop so low had I known. She must feel absolutely terrible."

"She does. She doesn't like you very much, right now. She's been through enough of a roller coaster with what happened with her last and now for you to just drop her so fast after kissing her like you did. Nice job, by the way," Remus nodded and picked up his book to retire to bed, "It's good to see that your talents haven't gone wasted."

"Who broke her heart, Remus?" Sirius requested as his friend was about to leave the room.

"I can't say, Sirius. I'll let her tell you that," Remus calmly answered.

"But, it wasn't Harry, right?"

Remus smiled to his friend and was halfway out the door when he called back, "No, it definitely wasn't Harry."


	14. Can a Wrong, Make a Right?

_A note from Serade Black: Well, another chapter, just 1 day later? I've decided _**not**_ to endorse any kind of schedule and the chapters will come out as they do. I know, for some that are waiting for each chapter, I might have disappointed and gone weeks/months without an update. As that happens, I might be lucky to throw out one more chapter before Mar (I'm getting married - there will be loads going on at the time), so for now, enjoy._

_I got a lot of msgs regarding what Sirius did. I'm very much AGAINST all that is Mary-Sue and I believe that sometimes these characters need strength, depth and no matter how fanfictiony they are, they still go through random acts of stupidity - it's what makes them real. So, for some, this might not be your kind of story, because there might not be bows tied all over it, but for those that are digging it, I thank you. You truly are my canvas to my imagination and where I take these characters._

_Note, none of them are mine, only the devious dirty acts I make them do. Then, those are mine ;) Enjoy._

_SB_

Chapter 14 - **Can a Wrong, Make a Right?**

The rain pecked away on the window outside, creating an eerie feel about the house. The portraits in the living room were turning in for the night, polishing up various parts of their frame before going to sleep.

Hermione had just noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet sitting on the coffee table and she picked it up to take it upstairs with her. Changing into her pajamas, consisting of a long-sleeved Weird Sisters t-shirt and flannel pants, she braided her hair and settled on top of her comforter to read the headlined story.

_Returning from Darkness: Sirius Black_

_By: Rita Skeeter_

_He sits there with his arms folded gracefully in his lap like a tragic portrait of woe. He has kept his boyish good looks and a slim physique that would display his immense bravery as his eyes twinkle with dark shadows of his past._

_R: Mr. Black, may I inquire where it is you've been all this time?_

_S: Well, it's kinda hard to say, actually. You see, I'm still under confidential contract with the Ministry, so I can't very well explain._

_R: I see, and would you believe that the rest of the world will soon find out?_

_S: Again, I repeat myself. I'm sure, in time, the Ministry will release more information as results do surface._

The story continued on further, discussing his adaptation to the surrounding world in which he returned to. His relationship with Harry Potter was also discussed, she pushing the prodding rod and dissecting past events up until the Potter's death that fateful night. Sirius was quick to cover, should he display any emotional weaknesses, having known that Rita's skill was to prey on such weaknesses.

Hermione skimmed her eyes over a few questions, finding them to be nothing but pure fluff feeding into his ego as she blatantly flirted with him through her writing. A few keywords caught her eye and she found a hitch in her breath as she dared read on.

_R: And now, the million galleon question, Sirius. What of your personal life?_

_S: I'm only going to tell you so much, Rita, so be weary._

_R: Sirius, your humor would drive any woman mad with lust, should you keep flaunting that tongue like you do._

Hermione found herself rolling her eyes as she followed the story. She could hardly believe that this woman put her gushing in print.

_R: So, I'm sure my female readers are wondering what future lies ahead with the notorious Sirius Black, or shall I inquire of your current status? (Sirius takes the time to think of a worthy answer so as not to contradict himself. He looks poised, proud and deliciously handsome as he ponders.)_

_S: Yes, there is someone. Someone I'd met long ago, and it was nice to meet up with her, again. We've created a kind of relationship that is still in the beginning stages, so who's to say._

_R: So, there is a woman in your favor?_

_S: Yes, there is one. She's a very beautiful, stubborn young lady that I feel doesn't always know what she wants. _

_R: So, you find her to be a challenge?_

_S: Well, she is challenging, yes. Eventually, I'll break her down._

_R: How romantic, Sirius. Does this girl understand that you're starving for her affections?_

_S: She can be blind, sometimes._

It wasn't going to bother her, Hermione thought. Fate had made its choice and even though the two of them were going to live under one roof, it was going to have to be discussed. The foundation would need to be set, rules made, and a consistent story should Harry discover she and Sirius's past interludes.

She crumpled the paper up, tossing it away in the waste paper basket and left her room to go downstairs to start a cup of tea before bed. Her mind was running a mile a minute and the faster she could sort this out with Sirius and end it, the better.

How inconsiderate could he be to flaunt his most recent escapade in the Daily Prophet? For a second, she considered the trampy witch lucky to have him, but pitied her instantly with how much baggage she was going to have to carry.

The dark kitchen was quickly illuminated with a flick of her wand that was kept in her pocket. Every other torch was lit with a short flame, giving off enough light to find her favorite nighttime tea bag and prepare her sleeping cup. She tapped her wand on the kettle, starting it as she took down a mug.

Her silence was broken as she heard the front door slam shut, hearing the familiar sound to be Remus. His footsteps carried him into the kitchen, where the door swung open to join her.

"I can make you a cup as well, if you want one," she offered, already taking down a second cup for her friend.

"I'd love it," he answered, identifying himself as Sirius, not Remus.

Like a deer in the headlights, she turned around to see him standing by the table and removing his coat. Her breath had escaped her momentarily, having not been prepared to speak to him so soon. She didn't know what to say, or how to act, so she spun back around to the kettle.

"I didn't expect it to be you," she answered, huffily.

"So, are you taking back the tea?" He asked smug. He knew he'd caught her off guard, but he still couldn't quite read her.

Refraining from being rude, she sternly answered, "No, I'll make you tea."

Sirius smirked, hearing her disappointment.

Slowly, he took a few steps closer to her, wanting so much to just back up to the time right at the end of the quidditch match. She'd looked at him with hungry eyes that told him she knew what she wanted. Maybe it was the heat of the moment; maybe it was the rush of the adrenaline, either way he wanted to see that again. She was absolutely breathtaking when she wanted _him_.

Sirius swallowed his pride the closer he got behind her and dared a couple of fingers to nearly touch her arm, "Did you read the story in the Daily Prophet?"

He made contact with her arm and she wiggled away, "Yes, Sirius don't touch me."

A look of dismay fell over his face when she walked away from him and back over to their pantry. He was utterly confused. With her, he found himself confused often.

"You read the story?" he questioned, unsure.

She nodded as she enchanted the kettle to pour hot water in the two cups, without having to step closer to Sirius who stood there like a waiting bear.

"And? Nothing?"

"Good story? I don't know, what is it you want me say?" She asked, glancing up at the way he held his arms open and waiting. "A bit shallow, a bit insulting and inconsiderate as hell?"

"How was it inconsiderate?"

"You really are thick, Sirius Black. If you hadn't kissed me, then we wouldn't be having this conversation," she confessed as she stirred the two tea cups.

"But, I did and we are. I saw the way you looked at me, Hermione. There was no doubt what was going through your mind-"

"Fine, but then you go and flaunt your relationship with another witch in the story? How do you honestly believe that that's okay? What part of that doesn't make you an absolute prick?" she asked and turned to face him.

Sirius looked away for a moment and then explained plainly, "Because, it was about you."

Hermione froze as the confession wasn't what she expected. Like a melting stick of butter, her muscles started to relax after being so tense and wound up. She was speechless, nearly numb and all the strength she could muster up was enough to pick up her tea cup and leave the kitchen, without another word.

His eyes turned away from her, letting guilt sink into him, having been completely aware of the damage he'd done after the quidditch match. He thought it to be a long shot, but he felt that through the story, she'd see the romantic gesture that he failed shamelessly at. It was hard for a leopard to change his spots, having been known to be irrational at times and as he wondered how much she knew about his weekend with Greta and prayed she'd never find out. For her to know this, would be a terrible blow and he couldn't begin to think of how he was going to pull himself out of that one.

He took his tea and sat at the table alone; wondering if anything between he and Hermione was going to be salvaged.

0o0o0o0o0o

"I really hate being in the middle of this, Hermione," Remus confessed in a quiet voice. He found it harder and harder to deal with, while two important people in his life were at their wits.

Hermione nodded as her curls fell into her sightlines as she peered down passed her breakfast to the morning Daily Prophet, "I know, Remus. I'm sorry that I've put you in an awkward position. We were silly to even have crossed the line and now, I sincerely believe that things won't be the same," she somberly sighed.

"Perhaps, over time..." Remus began, but the look on her face stopped him from continuing.

"I don't know, I don't think so. It's just, like I said before, I don't want to be _one_ of them. He's just too…free. He's nothing like Severus-"

Remus couldn't help but stifle a chuckle with the comparison, but bit his lip as her eyes flicked up to his. He was purely interrupting her serious train of thought and he wasn't helping.

"It's just that I don't know if I will understand what he did or how he thinks, sometimes. I mean, he kissed me at the match Remus, you saw. And…I thought, I was convinced it meant something and not just a fleeting moment, but for him to just…" she was caught up in her thoughts as she remembered where he went that weekend, "to just go off and meet another witch?"

Remus watched how his friend was sorely hurt, learning she'd heard of his whereabouts. He couldn't make excuses for his friend, but he might be able to explain a little for his poor judgment.

"Well, I can tell you why he thought it to be okay," Remus offered, sipping his tea carefully to see how willing she would be to hear the explanation.

Hermione lifted her eyes to his, her face soft and curious, as if it was offered like a gentle present, "Go on."

"Don't ask me to explain his reasoning, but I do know that he believed you were sneaking behind Harry's back with him," Remus spoke.

Hermione furrowed her brow, "What do you mean? I don't want Harry to find any of this out, not now, at least."

"No, he thought you were _with_ Harry."

"He thought I was with him? That's ridiculous; surely you told him that we weren't together, right? I mean, we've never…I've never…it's Harry!" she stuttered with urgency.

"He's believed that the entire weekend, up until yesterday, in fact. After it was cleared up, he wanted to go and wake you to apologize, but I advised him not to," Remus assured like an old wise man between legends.

"And the witch? What is she to him?" She tested, afraid of the truth.

Remus shook his head, "Nothing. I hate to say it this way, but it's how he dealt with his guilt and anger all at once." His thoughts brought a swift smile to his lips, "that and probably years of pent up energy."

Hermione glanced over at her friend, "That wasn't necessary, Remus," she smiled.

Remus just shrugged, admitting that it was a little too much colorful information for that hour of the day. Surely, Sirius wouldn't approve of his personal life being discussed over morning toast.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

The front door to number twelve Grimmauld Place was constantly rotating for at least twenty minutes with Order members. Several were coming in, hanging their coats, greeting friends and bustling into the kitchen where Molly Weasley was preparing the dinner for those that were staying after. Maps were scattered over the table in the center, small conversations were going on all around the kitchen and the meeting was just about to begin.

Getting everyone's attention, Molly took the long wooden spoon and banged it a few times on the table, forcing all sets of eyes to set on her as she looked menacing in her cooking attire. Once attention was given, she turned the meeting over to her husband, Arthur and returned to the boiling cauldron over the fire in the hearth.

"Thank you, my dear. Good evening," he addressed, clearing his throat. "To run right into new updates, it appears that last weeks raids uncovered two more Death Eaters employed by the Ministry. It saddens me to learn that one was a trusted friend and I'm sorry to say that he'll be spending the remainder of his days locked up – without a soul."

There was an uneasy settling in the room and it wasn't because the latest arrival was Snape, coming in silently through the doors like a vampire. He practically floated into the room and found a seat in a vacant chair next to his former. With a friendly smile, Hermione gave him a quiet welcome and turned her body more towards him, whispering updates for him on what he missed.

Sirius was sitting on the counter, letting his legs swing over the edge so that they'd lightly tap the cupboards, for lack of something more interesting to do. With the air of a pessimist, Sirius couldn't help but smirk when he watched Snape glide in with all his mortician sexiness and take the empty seat next to Hermione – the one he was eyeballing to nonchalantly sneak over and occupy.

The arrogant potions master took the seat and rested his chin on his wrist as he leaned towards Hermione, allowing her to whisper things to him. Sirius couldn't help but grimace at the way she appeared to be cordial with him and nearly thought them to be friends. By the way she leaned over the arm of her own chair, Sirius was able to read her lips enough to see that she was just catching him up to speed due to his extravagant tardiness with his billowing robes.

The meeting wasn't as productive as some had hoped, but they did get a better rundown on how the stake-outs were going, and it deemed a better report than what Hermione got first hand at the Ministry. Without a certain code of ethics bearing over his shiny bald head, Kingsley was able to be raw and humorous with his actual play of events.

"How much of a conflict of interest would it be, if we were able to talk to the Auror Department head about getting Sirius into training?" Kingsley suggested as he posed his query.

Sirius was just taking a sip of his butterbeer when he nearly missed his lips at the sound of his name and anything associated with the Ministry.

"How do you mean, Kingsley?" Arthur pressed.

"Well, knowing that Sirius has pertinent information on his own kin, wouldn't he be a valuable resource with the fellow Aurors that aren't Order members? Or would it be too much of a conflict of interest for him to cross bloodlines with his own?" Shacklebot explained as he tapped a pencil over his fingers.

"Conflict of interest? Hell, if it wasn't an Unforgivable Curse, I'd zap my cousins myself," Sirius bellowed, drawing all the attention to the teenage-like man.

"Not even the Returned can be exempt from the curses, Black," Snape drawled from under his hand.

"No one was directing any of this to you, crooked nose," Sirius purred back with a wink, tipping his beer.

"Gentlemen, let Kingsley continue," Hermione interjected as she sensed the tension building in only a few seconds.

"We could induct Sirius into the department, he could start the beginning of training, like Hermione and Ron, but we could assign him the top projects, since he's got an in," Tonks suggested as she leaned in further to the conversation.

"I'll be working for the Ministry? How ironic is that?" Sirius mused allowed.

"You're not in yet, Black," Snape snipped.

"But, he could be. I don't think it would take too much convincing with the way Robards just worships the ground he walks on, he'd love to have a celebrity like him on the team," Kingsley added, smirking to Sirius.

Hermione nodded in agreement, trying to be as diplomatic as possible, but the idea of her working so close to him, hadn't hit her yet. She was too blinded by the way it would benefit the department, by not inducting some not-so trustworthy members in the Order. She'd probably be the one to help him along, seeing as they were friends and would be able to take their work home with them, to study together.

No, it still hadn't hit her. She was too occupied to even consider her feelings, especially when Snape was whispering his objections to her about how much of a bad idea putting Sirius Black into the Ministry was.

The meeting concluded and a few stayed for dinner. Like a family reunion of his childhood with his pureblood cousins at a time when they were friends, the kitchen was loud and rowdy. Wine and butterbeers were sitting on the table set for ten, the candles levitated over the table to free up more space for dishes and food, Molly ran around the kitchen to get the steaming stuff on the table and Hermione and Ginny ran around her like two den mothers in training.

Tucked back in a shadowed corner, Sirius stood with Kingsley and Moody as they started to brief him on the procedures of getting him applied to the Auror department. From the corner of his eye, Sirius gave fleeting glances to Hermione, admiring the way she took the initiative over dinner. She hadn't spoken as much at the meeting, unlike the one prior, as she seemed to be concentrating on the new developments. Aside from her obligated Order duties, she still posed to be one hell of a young hostess, complete with filling empty glasses of charmed cherry wine. Her smile was genuine as well as pretty, her slender physique was just enough for him to life her up in his arms and her buoyant curls bounced around her shoulders like an angel. She was, to put it lightly, a dream.

Snap-Snap, went Moody's fingers, "Stay alert boy! You can't be easily distracted by anything in this job. Perhaps this isn't a good idea, Shacklebot."

Sirius jolted himself out of his observation and immediately interjected, "No, no, I'm fine. I'm good, I'm here. Tomorrow, I'll go in."

"All right, then you'll go through the weekend with the assessment test study, and you'll come back on Monday to show yourself up," Kingsley explained.

Sirius pretended to listen intently, but the picture of Hermione bustling around in his mother's old kitchen was just too much to take his eyes away. She just proved to be such a pleasant spirit in house once full of so many dark things. With the only exception of Snape grimacing in the corner, it was the perfect atmosphere.

After the last person left, Hermione was just tidying up in the kitchen. Flicking her wand to do more than one thing at once for some dishes and utensils unused, she nearly took off Sirius's head as a plate flew through the air to take its position on the hutch.

Upon nearly witnessing a beheading, Hermione dropped her wand and clasped her hands to her face, to cover her shock, "I'm so sorry, Sirius!"

Sirius managed to duck out of the way in time, but smiled with how quick and efficient she was, "Wow, I never thought I'd see my life pass before my eyes over my mother's old cookware."

She smiled wholly for him, bowing her head in slight embarrassment. She just let her cleaning get out of hand.

"Although, I can't tell you how many times that I actually broke that very plate, but my mother managed to always find a way to fix it," Sirius mused, straightening his shoulders out from his swift move.

Hermione felt herself looking into his eyes the way she did that revealed her weakness and it wasn't a place she wanted to enter. Immediately, she toughened up and turned her back on him to return to her kitchen cleaning. She cleared her throat to clear her mind and tried to drop any hindering of a spark she might have revealed to him.

He noticed how quickly she dropped her act and immediately went into a defense mode. She was thinking, or rather she was trying to fight herself. He'd managed to tear down whatever they'd been able to build up together, and it felt like they didn't even have a solid foundation to start over with and something needed to be said.

"Hermione, I really like what we have," he began, putting his heart on his sleeve. He hadn't planned to get sentimental there in the kitchen, but he really wanted to try and salvage whatever it was they had left after his major screw up.

"We're friends, Sirius, that's fine," she re-enforced platonically.

Sirius bowed his head, taking it as a low blow, "Yes, we are, but-"

"No, _but_, Sirius," she swung around to face him, stern face and holding a wooden spoon in her hand, "we're just friends. No more."

"Hermione," he halted, trying to let him speak out, "we're not just friends, that's obvious. From the second I saw you when I woke up, you appeared to me like an angel. You were the first one I saw when I came back, the first one that showed kindness and gave me relief that I was home," he began.

"I nursed you back, along with Remus, are you more with him, too?"

"Merlin's Beard, I hope not," he joked, trying to offer her a small grin, but she wasn't taking any humor at this point. "You asked me to kiss you-"

"-that was a mistake-"

"-I wanted to-"

"-it's wrong, Sirius-"

"-I know it is, but Harry will have to understand-"

"-it's more than just-"

"-we can't control any of this-"

"-you slept with another witch, how am I supposed to take that?-"

"-I made a mistake-"

"I'm not like that; I can't play games, Sirius!" She spat on the brink of tears. He'd worked her up so hard; she was laying it on him as thick as she could, while still trying to hold it together.

"I don't want to play games with you, love," he tried, coming close enough to yank the spoon out of her hand, for fear of her hitting him with it.

She'd finally stopped arguing, closing her eyes tight and just letting him hold her wrists down to her sides as he stepped closer. She'd just been so worked up and so exhausted over this mind game he was playing, that she was just defending herself from what she was starting to enjoy. The idea of him, the vision of him, the legend of him, it all tied into what she wanted to experience. Life was full of lessons and he was one she wanted so badly to try and remember, no matter what the cost was, selfishly speaking.

Sirius filled her senses, against her control. His husky cologne with the mix of detergent on his clothes, to the way his breath sounded when he was passionate about his words spoken to her, just made her weak and submit to him.

He could feel her relax, the closer he got to her. Her head was turned away, but his eyes were on her intently, looking for any change. With a free hand, he risked releasing her and lifted her chin with his finger to get her to look at him.

Through her worried eyes, afraid for herself, she told him how much she didn't want to be hurt, especially by the likes of him.

"I won't play games with you," he whispered.


	15. Getting Closer to Touch

_A note from Serade Black: Hellooooo! It's been so long for an update, I feel like I owe you guys so much for hanging in there. As always…I love you dear readers – both old and new. And for those that have told others of this story (and Necessary By the Order…which won an award, btw!) thank you. You really help my ego that I'm onto something in the shipping world._

_On this chapter, I'm getting closer to what you all are craving and believe me, I'm dying to give it to you. Infact, I've already written some scenes ahead that are flying around in my head, so I've satisfied myself just a wee bit, but I won't be completely satisfied until I reveal those chapters to you drip drip. _

_Enjoy!_

_SB_

Chapter 15 – Getting Closer to Touch

The house seemed extremely sensitive that night as she tried to silence her steps towards the front door of Grimmauld Place. Perhaps it was because every move she made seemed to be magnified and echoed through the house like a foghorn. She didn't feel guilty about going out for the evening, okay, maybe just a little. No one had staked a claim on her, nothing had progressed in the last two nights, and therefore she was perfectly fine to go out when she wanted without anyone's permission.

"Where are you going, tonight?" A warm voice purred into the air.

Hermione spun on her heel to see Sirius coming in from the kitchen holding a butterbeer. Rolling her shoulders back and lifting her chin proudly, she threw the end of her scarf over her shoulder, trying to pretend that his mere presence wasn't enough to just make her shudder. She swallowed the little lump forming in her throat as the little voice in the back of her head was screaming at her to play it cool like a cucumber. With only a second to think, she was going to make her answer simple and brief.

That was the plan.

Instead, she caught the way his head tilted to the side, quirking an eyebrow, waiting for her to challenge the king of excuses with a good line. Nothing came out as she opened her mouth to speak, but instead began to bite her lip in a subtle panic.

Finally, blood started to circulate to her brain and the giddy teenage flush began to subside. She raised her chin defiantly and confirmed, "I'm going out."

"Where?"

"Just out. I'm meeting a friend for a drink, that's all," she quickly covered.

She hoped he wasn't going to press the issue any further where she might have to go into details. The two of them hadn't made anything official; they still batted around the cat and mouse flirt with no strings. Neither one had confirmed anything and Sirius hadn't even tried to kiss her. She sensed he was being very cautious, this second or third time around. In conclusion, she should feel no guilt whatsoever for going out for the drink.

He nodded indifferently and continued on around the banister and started up the stairs, stomping quietly like he always did. When he got about halfway, he stopped and turned around to look down at her, "Anyone I know?"

There it was, that little tinge of guilt starting to resurface. Perhaps it was the way he made the effort to stop and address her face to face, rather than asking it fleetingly over his shoulder.

She gave him that respect, hiding the person, but giving him the honesty, "Perhaps, but why don't you ask me that another time."

He gave a short nod, confirming her answer, and turned back around to finish the last few stairs two at a time, "All right, I'll ask you when you get home. Be careful, love," he called over his shoulder.

Watching him walk across the hallway and disappear into his bedroom, she frowned slightly. _He didn't press that very hard! He didn't even really show any concern! Prat._

Her intention all along was to not have to answer to where she was going and quietly slip out unnoticed, but when she tried to play it cool like it really didn't matter (but it did) he barely batted an eyelash. The arrogant blood that ran through his body was forever believing he was better than the next, not taking the issue of her meeting someone else for the night, too serious.

She walked out the front door, pulling her wool pea coat around tighter to protect her from the brisk cold wind. She listened to the sound of her shoes crunching on broken branches scattered over the sidewalk, hypnotizing her to replay the scene before and how nonchalant he was about the whole thing.

"Good evening, Hermione," Snape charmed as he stood from his seat to greet her.

When he stood, all the creases in his dark heavy robes seemed to fall out. No indication of how long he'd been there waiting, but she could be certain he'd arrived early to display prompt eagerness for their evening.

He leaned in, kissing her casually on the cheek, and pulled out the chair for her.

"Hello, Severus. It was nice of you to invite me out. I needed to get out of that house for a little while," Hermione answered, sitting down and placing her purse on the vacant chair next to her.

"Black, driving you crazy, I presume?" he picked up his brandy and sipped it carefully, savoring the taste on his tongue and the lovely girl next to him.

"Yes, but let's not talk about him. How are you? School going well this term?" she quickly changed subjects, fearful that she might let out something she might not want others to believe.

She picked up her wine glass that Severus had already ordered for her and sipped it sweetly, appreciating the way it warmed her throat as the red contents soothed. Being out of that house for the time being helped her forget a bit of what was crowding her mind, presently. The spirit hit her muscles in just the right places and as she took her third sip from her glass, her eyes fluttered with the relaxing sensation.

"The usual," he replied casually. "I've got some information as well, so next week should be a good time to have another dinner, perhaps?" Snape was alluding to another Order meeting.

"That's fine, I'll talk to Remus."

"Perhaps afterwards, we might be able to slip away to something that night?" he purred, laying a finger over her wrist and caressing with the lightest of touches.

His gentle, subtle touch sent deep tingling rushes through her nerves, like an electric charge. His voice was low and seducing, but that was the way he always spoke to her. His suggestive selection of words was enough to consider, knowing that she could definitely use something he could give her, but she couldn't commit herself to it.

As innocent as it might appear, it wasn't in Hermione to meet a man, when she was flirting with another. It wouldn't be right. Even after the way Sirius reacted under his misconceptions, for Hermione the details were clear.

"That's a nice invitation, Severus, but I can't meet you. A drink, I can do. Anything more," she sighed, "that's too much, right now."

Severus lifted his finger off her wrist, lowering his eyes to his drink, dreading the answer to the question he was going to ask, "Are you seeing someone else?"

"No," she was quick to answer and regretting it at the same time. "No, I'm not seeing anyone."

"Hermione, I cannot be upset if you are. Our fate is out of our control. I would be greatly saddened, but not angry."

"I'm not seeing anyone, Severus. I'm just," she paused again, turning the glass around in her fingers, "I'm just not sure what it is."

There was a definite change in her body language towards Snape. There had been for a couple of months and it was still not discussed. It was apparent Hermione was beginning to distance herself from him in a way she knew she couldn't connect with him the way she used to. There was too much at risk and even their subtle touch in public was a dangerous feat. Now, with Sirius in the picture and the attraction they shared for one another, her mind was getting cloudier and cloudier.

"So, there is another man?" he confirmed with his voice dropping darker as he pressed on.

She sighed, knowing that she wished she wasn't having this conversation with him, "There might be. It's possible."

Snape was quiet and he bowed his head to his drink as he savored its trust and intimacy with him. It was obvious that her feelings towards him were changing, like a wind changing direction for a storm. Her body language wasn't what it used to be, like the way they always tried to conceal their heated attraction whenever they were in public. No, she was platonically stationed in her own chair, her eyes drifting to the rim of her glass and her mind heavy in thought.

Hermione felt a strange unsettling in her mind, like someone was just pulling back curtains to her thoughts and letting in a slight breeze. Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet her concern.

"Severus," she saw him looking at her from heavy hooded eyes, "you promised."

Her whisper was light, breathy, not surprised. Her eyebrows displayed slight distrust and she knew that he was using the beginnings of Legilimency on her. Something they'd promised he'd never do during their relationship. Her thoughts still remained private, no matter what she was feeling, seeing or experiencing and having him keep his prying curiosity out of her head would help sort herself out.

Snape bowed his head in slight shame, the sign of guilt weighted on his shoulders indicated that he'd broken that old promise to her, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I only-"

As if someone had just invaded her, "That was the only thing..." she lost her words.

He reached over to cover her wrist with his entire hand, but she pulled it away slowly, defiantly, still very much unsettled for his action. He slowly closed his eyes and waited for her to release her anger as it was slowly beginning to swell up in her, like a boiling pot of water on the stove. But, she wasn't the hating kind; she was a simmering kind of girl. She'd allow emotions to bottle up and then overflow like a hot kettle.

She sat quietly, taking her own hands off the table and folding them in her lap. Slowly, she started to shake her head, closing her eyes tightly, wishing that of all people, _he _wouldn't betray her trust.

"Hermione, please, I didn't mean to...I just needed to see if I was still in there," Snape quietly confessed.

Without a word she reached over and picked up her purse from the empty chair, threw her coat around her shoulders and left the pub with a sweeping glide out the door.

Snape watched as his gentile company left him. Her glass of wine only sipped down to half and all of it due to his inconsiderate jealousy. He wasn't even able to make out who was preoccupying her thoughts. Only that it was a wizard.

The door to number twelve Grimmauld Place slammed so loud, the portraits started to yell Sirius's name, but immediately silenced once they saw it was Hermione steaming into the house. Blank faces from past ancestors watched in horror as the patient "booky" one appeared to be fuming.

She was.

She stormed into the house with no consideration of anyone that was sleeping, leaning against a frame or just dozing off for a full nights rest. She had left the pub so quickly, she barely checked to make sure she was in a safe hidden spot to apparate from. She was in such a hurry to get home and let out some steam. Let off some steam in a most un-Hermione kind of way: a few shots of fire whisky.

The kitchen door slammed open and she whirled around to the pantry to find Sirius's stash. She picked up a half full bottle, pulled out the cork and took a heated burning sip of its vile contents. The young witch just needed a rebellious buzz, but like always, she underestimated her tolerance for fire whisky and nearly gagged as the vapors from the open bottle met her senses. She knew that after only a few sips, she'd be lightheaded and ready to go out like a light in her own bed…alone.

Snape had truly upset her with his mental invasion, proving to her that he really was like every other man with their weak curious jealousies. Of all the people she trusted with her inner most concerns, he was the one to stick his crooked nose in there and try and find out her secret.

Finding the act of drinking the poison out of the bottle a bit like a Neanderthal, she went to fetch a glass from the cupboard. Shrugging off her coat and setting her wand on the table, she filled the glass up with another shot and knocked it back, shivering as it slithered down her burning throat.

"This is so not me," she whispered to herself as she shook her head towards the empty glass.

"Rough night?"

The voice broke her solitude and she turned her head to see the dark prince standing in the doorway with his arms folded over his chest, observing her irrational actions. Smirking, almost pleased with her slightly comical sight, he walked over to the counter she leaned against and reached up over the pretty witch to retrieve a glass for himself.

"It must have been if you're drinking my stuff," Sirius hummed as he held the glass in front of her to fill. "So, who did you meet?"

Still not answering, watching his every move with a skeptical eye, she filled his glass. After doing so, she pulled the bottle back to herself as if to egg on her inebriated state so as to forget about her mind-betrayal, even for the rest of the night.

"Please, don't make me answer that," she answered as she walked passed him. The hindering in her voice reflected the fact that she was almost ashamed to tell him who her past lover was.

"All right," he nodded as the curiosity killed him inside. "Then, answer me this one..."

She listened while hoisting herself onto the table that sat in the middle of the kitchen. Her legs dangled over the side, pulling her skirt down over her knees to hide any of her secrets. As if accepting the challenge, she prepared herself another glass of the vile contents and swirled it around in the glass as if to let off any burning ingredients she might regret consuming later.

Sirius leaned against the counter casually, pursing his lips and sizing her up, "Was it an ex-boyfriend?"

The intoxicating fumes exhuming from her glass seemed to relax her enough to lean back against her free hand, causing her skirt to raise just enough to reveal a bit of a pale thigh. Her head tilted back like a connoisseur, absorbing his words.

"The word _boyfriend_ sounds so childlike," she mused.

He smiled, tilting his head to the side. His dark hair fell around his shoulders, framing his face of perfection. The low light in the kitchen cast shadows around his eyes, making him appear much darker and his cheekbones to appear more defined. His chiseled appeal was quite delicious to feast upon.

"Did he upset you? I heard the portraits complaining when I rounded down the stairs. You must have really shaken them up when you came through the door," Sirius straightened, pushing himself off the counter.

Hermione saw him readjust and begin a few steps to come closer. Resetting herself, she straightened up and squeezed her legs tightly together; for fear that even just the hint of any kind of spreading might send him reeling, as he approached her like a tiger on the prowl.

His shoulders rolled back, his chest well defined under the fitted sweater he wore and his eyes burned on her like he was stalking new prey. As he entered her personal space, she did not tremble. Only her heartbeat gave away her indulgence by the way it started to quicken and try as she might, she fought the urge to undress him with her eyes as she briefly blushed when she thought about how good his thighs looked in those jeans.

Stopping right before her, he sipped his drink almost tempting-like, waiting for the next move. He loved their game of cat and mouse, he would have it no other way, but it was time for the cat to try and pull the mouse closer.

They'd chased each other, been through enough misconceptions, and it was just time to put some cheese on the trap and hope it wouldn't snap early. With the holidays coming, people were going to be staying with them and the house was going to be full. Pretty soon, they'd have to sneak around with their little game - unless, it wasn't going to be a game, anymore. Then, her bedroom would be vacant for another to stay over the holidays.

The Pureblood smiled to himself as he quietly planned their remaining year together. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but there was no denying the way she always seemed to size him up, debating with her subconscious whether or not he was legit. He was. And he knew very clearly of the damage control he had to perform. For now, he had to ride on the gamble that she would take him in, for as far as she would allow herself. Though she played the distant one at times, there was no mistaking her subtle glances or accidental touches from time to time; as if to remind him she was still there.

_Oh, I've noticed, Hermione._

Taking in consideration of her somewhat vulnerable state, he was careful with his next move. She was reserved, collected and sometimes hard to figure out her way of thinking. Rather than like a tiger waiting to pounce, he was playing the slow, charismatic gentleman and damn it...he was going to open her up.

Sirius put his glass down, then leaning over, placing both hands on the table beside her her legs. He leaned in close...personal...and dangerous. Very carefully, he watched her lips poising into a subtle grin, reflecting the mischievous one of his own. The table creaked underneath them, revealing its age and breaking the silence of the room. He remained still, cool, and very much aware of her increase in breath the longer he was silent there in front of her, watching her every blink.

Building the tension between them, only her legs folded in front of her keeping them from mashing their bodies together, his voice finally cut through.

"With all that's happened between us, thus far," he began, as he moved in slow and confidently, "You've always been my main focus."

All bullshit aside, she was finally breaking down and submitting to him. She watched how he thought out every word her spoke, allowing her eyes to flicker down his moving lips. His brow was dark and his eyes nearly shadowed, but his handsome face was anything but frightening. He had the looks of an Adonis and with the simplest of words he was focusing all his energy on her, right then, right now, whilst sitting on a kitchen table.

"I would try my hardest not to upset you anymore, Hermione."

She closed her eyes on his words, knowing that he was leaning in closer and finally, feeling his lips touch hers. She'd longed for him to kiss her again, without any distractions or haste. This kiss felt very slow, savoring almost. Never in her life, through all her romantic ties, was she ever kissed like this. Like the sounds around them had been muted and time had ceased to rotate, for the moment was completely stilled.

Cherishing their sweet union, he slowly massaged her lips, sliding over them with such delicacy she'd imagined it to be a dream. So much so, Hermione slowly raised a hand to his face, touching him to believe it real. Once she felt the movement from his jaw to pleasure her, she rested her hand down against his chest, to feel the beating of his own heart. The man who never before existed to her in this light proved to be a living, breathing, romantic being that carried a soul that was nearly taken by a dementor.

Her fingers grasped at his sweater to pull him closer, as her chin rose to meet him more. Touching his neck, his ears, his chin with her thumb made the entire sensation surreal. The silence around them willed her to think more of him, as he paid all his attentions on her for that heavenly moment.

Sirius loved to be touched. He loved to be adored. He loved to be appreciated. He found himself becoming quite aroused with the way the young witch wanted to feel him, committing her touch to memory. She tasted like the fire whisky she had consumed, but still smelled so sweet. Her scent was intoxicating and she revealed the hidden kitten attitude about her, wanting to come out into the light. He knew that he mustn't rush into things, seeing as she was so giving now. He had to plan this right, if he was going to push her further. He had so much to make up for, when nothing was really his fault. Guilt played him as he acted poorly over his last misconception and he was cautious in letting her know that he had no other object of affection waiting in the wings. _She_ was his only current target.

It was so easy kissing Sirius. Her lips moved over his, sharing the same rhythm with minimal effort. His tongue was not forceful, but loving with the way he slid ever so cautiously over hers, teasing her with a light lap over pursed lips. Like an aphrodisiac, his sensuality made her want more out of the kiss, but he played her well; sustaining her with just enough to keep her intrigued.

Though he carried a rough exterior, he was conscious about being careful with her. His deep kisses enchanted her to want more and as he nibbled on her lower lip, he felt her hands curling so that her nails would run down his chest with anticipation. Like a crazed sex kitten, she exhausted herself with small sounds of pleasure…and he'd barely left her lips. He fought with himself to not take the normal path when he heard such sounds from a lady. Especially when they were elicited from one he desired to taste.

No, instead of forcing himself on her stronger, he did the opposite and pulled away. He pulled away from her hungry lips that blindly searched for him the second the air hit them. She didn't even open her eyes before reaching for his neck and pulling him back to her.

She wanted more. More than she would allow herself to admit. Enough to have that throbbing, burning urge building in her to want to _feel_ Sirius Black and find out what his hands could do…what his whole body could do and just for sake of trying…what his heart might do.

Unconsciously, Hermione relaxed her legs from being so tightly pushed together like a horny nun. The darker, firewhisky-induced witch found a side of her allowing him to step closer. Upon hearing the sound of her shoes dropping off her feet onto the floor, Sirius grinned into the kiss. She was surrendering.

At first, he was hesitant to push further, afraid she might throw her arms up in front of her to push him away, but when he started to feel her knees rise against his leg, he knew she had no intention of letting him go. Her bare feet rubbed up against his legs, only to hook her ankles together in order to trap him in. A firm grasp on the belt around his waist and she never even bat an eyelash as her tongue pushed further into his mouth.

Sirius broke away from their tender kiss to just look at her. He stood over her, looking down into a beautiful face he held in his hands. Like pure innocence ready to go horribly bad, he couldn't help but chuckle under his breath with the way she smiled up to him mischievously, with the help of the spirit that lay forgotten in the bottle next to her. There was no mistaking what he read in her eyes though, as they submitted to one another there in Grimmauld kitchen. It was a look of want, pining even, but was it for him or the person she just met for drinks? Had it been a past love that had been able to capture her heart so tightly that she wasn't going to let it go so easily?

Sirius knew nothing. He knew nothing of what Hermione had been involved in prior to their little interludes, he'd missed out on so much both inside and outside this house. He had no place to come in here and try and sweep her off her feet for what may or may not be the biggest mistake of their lives, for Harry's, the Order's and general friendships' sake. At the same time, what if she was still in love with another?

"I don't want to confuse you, Hermione. If your heart belongs to someone else, I am not going to push you," Sirius whispered, allowing her to back out in time.

The game had been fun, and in all sincerity, it could continue, as long as there was no intention of ever being trapped against their will.

She appreciated his sincerity, but knew that wasn't the issue. Her issue was being afraid of getting hurt. Not just getting hurt, but by getting hurt by _him_. He was Sirius Black…Harry's godfather! The idea of them was just so wrong on so many levels; they'd already passed the danger threshold with their public display. If Harry were to find out, she wanted to be the one to tell him, she wanted to be the one to not get too involved with Sirius, that they were still able to pull out unscathed. And then there was the matter of what Snape would think. She loved Severus, she did, but she found herself growing apart from him the last few months, even before Sirius came into the picture. It was just the emotional disappointment that she'd taught herself to believe was inevitable. Until the war was over, they couldn't be together. Upon their breaking up, there was the risk that another might come into their lives and that was just a risk they had to take. It was apparent that she was no longer "in love" with Severus…as she allowed Sirius to hold her.

"My heart doesn't belong to anyone," she quietly replied. Her eyes never left his as they passed over every single feature, wrinkle and blink over his face. With a lump in her throat and her heart on her sleeve ready to leap, she continued, "Yet."

Sirius felt himself melting into this young woman. The way she put herself out, taking the dare to trust him and give him a chance. He knew with the way she kissed him after the Quidditch match, that she was ready then, if only he hadn't fucked it all up. The little voice in the back of his head pressured him to consider her ever so cautiously and treat her like a fragile doll.

He was going to push their innocent flirtations further.


	16. The Date

_A note from Serade Black:  Keep those reviews coming, because they truly are encouraging. I'm sure some of you are getting bored and wondering where this is going, but I assure you, it's going somewhere. The conflict is starting to come into play a bit more and soon you'll see a bit of a story there. I do not feel I've been fair with the smut, but that's because I feel that dragging it out, should make it better. Speaking of smut, I pose a question for you (and this is whether you intend on reading the UNCUT version I'll let you know of the story or not), but which do you believe is hotter in your opinion? Slow, very slow smut, or animal smut? Give me your opinions and let give me an idea what type of audience is drawn into this as this moment._

_For those of you desiring Remus attention, I have read that you are getting antsy about his use. Or shall I say, truly disappointed in me that I have barely given him lines...you're right. I'll try to fix that._

_As for this chapter, though it carries the couple along, it's been put here for truly "fluff" reasons._

_SB_

**Chapter 16**

_The Date_

The following evening, the wind was quite calm for the late fall. By now, temperatures should be dropping and cool rain should be beating down, but all seemed serene for now. Perhaps it was the calming before the storm that might explain it, since that evening's activities were highly anticipated.

As Remus turned the corner to enter the living room from the study, he saw his long time friend leaning on the arm of the antique sofa with his arms crossed over his charcoal grey sweater. His head was down, hiding his thoughtful face, but nothing could hide the way he appeared tense. His faded jeans and black boots appeared to be nicely pressed and dull, indicating that he wasn't going to sit around the house all night or go out for a spin with some drinking mates. There was definitely something different in the air and it was thick inside the house - an energy, but not a negative one, for a change.

"Going out?" Remus inquired as he surveyed his friend's demeanor.

The pureblood raised his head to peer out from black layered curtained locks framing his face like a perfect portrait on canvas. He paused when he looked at Remus and quickly grinned, almost suspiciously.

"I've got a date," he plainly answered.

Remus cocked an eyebrow and rather than lecture him he just warned him, "Do me one favor, friend." he waited until Sirius was paying attention again, and not picking off a thread from his sweater, "Don't break her heart. I had to help her over the last one and I don't want to go through that again. Not over my best friend."

Sirius's warm grin fell into concern, "Who was she with, Remus?"

Remus dropped his head and continued on slowly towards the kitchen. The truth might sour his evening, so he only answered, "I don't think I'm the one to tell you that. It's better she does. Have a good night."

Sirius had no response to that and watched his friend pass him and push his weight against the door without looking back. He left him there, wondering, pining for the answer and wanting to know why it was so bloody private.

He was so distracted with the mystery man, that he didn't notice Hermione's grand entrance down the stairs, coming to stand in front of him. When he felt her presence nearing him, he immediately turned his head to feast his eyes upon the angelic woman possessing the most intriguing personality and stubbornness he'd ever met.

"I don't know how I let you talk me into doing this, Sirius. What if someone sees us and it gets out…" Hermione confessed as she tied a scarf around neck, hiding her low-cut shirt.

"You're so ashamed of me, aren't you?" He half-teased while over-acting, biting his thumb in dramatics.

She smiled and ducked her head, pressing a hand against his chest in an apologetic flirt, "No, I'm only thinking of Harry, and you know that."

"I don't know," he added, shaking his head and helping her into her pea coat. "I think you're afraid that your ex will see us and then you'll have some explaining to do that you've fallen madly in love with someone else that's much older than you and you want to marry him and have dozens of children."

She turned around to face him as she buttoned up her coat, feigning shock but was able to keep up, "Oh, you're wrong," she paused as she walked out the door as he opened it, "He's actually older than you!"

She piped it out without a second glance back, leading him on that that was the only thing wrong with his sentence. Sirius just gave her a blank look and followed her out the door and into the calm balmy night air.

They walked separately, Hermione keeping her arms snug against her body and Sirius walking with his hands in his jeans pockets. They didn't apparate anywhere, seeing as part of the deal that Hermione allowed Sirius to take her out was if they did a completely muggle date and no apparating, no wizard-owned restaurants and they would walk around muggle shopping areas. She didn't wish to be recognized for fear that talk might get back to Harry, but what she didn't realize was that the more she fought all she could to deny their attraction, it only appeared to grow stronger. A temptation, even.

"So, your ex was older than I am?" Sirius inquired, turning his head and grinning at her little taboo.

"Well, seeing as you've been lucky enough to have frozen your age for those lost years, then yes, you are a few years younger," she vaguely explained with a guilty smile over her lips.

"How much older was he?" He asked, intrigued, "Are we talking fifties...Dumbledore's age...what?"

"He's over forty, that's all I'll say," she buttoned up, looking away to hide her grin.

"Forties, eh? Whew, you do like them matured, don't you? He's got to have a full head of grey hair, does he not? Did he have to take certain muggle medications in order to be with you-"

"Sirius Black, people who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. I do believe you are not too far away from forty, yourself, so I might suggest that you button your lip on the matter. However, just for the record, no he was perfectly fine and didn't need any kind of assistance of any muggle drugs," she quipped.

"Maybe so, but I've still got those four glorious years to hang on the coat tails of someone only in their early thirties," he explained smugly while running a confident hand through his wild locks.

Hermione glanced over at him the way one does when someone catches their interest. She couldn't help but grin at Sirius's fear of getting old, or so he played; it was quite endearing to see him afraid of something he couldn't control. Regardless, she couldn't allow herself to get distracted as she assisted them in being incognito for the night ahead of them.

They had dinner first at a nice Indian Restaurant somewhere near Piccadilly. What better way to not be noticed, then to blend in with one of the biggest tourist traps in muggle London. No witch or wizard, should they be about, would notice them amongst the arrays of flashing cameras taking pictures of lighted signs that would never develop. The voices of angry American fathers advising their children to look the other way before crossing the street filled in as ambient sounds outside their restaurant windows.

"I'll have you know, this is the first curry I've had since I've come back," Sirius confirmed as he lifted a bite of a spiced hot Tika Masala to his mouth.

Hermione bowed her head in her own suspicion, "You're English and you're going to tell me you've gone nearly two months without a curry?"

Sirius kept his eyes on her like a hawk, trying so desperately to pull one on her, but he broke rather quickly, "All right, you got me. You're right. But, I'm not lying when I say it's the first curry I've had…alone with you," and he finished it off with his famous flirting wink.

She blushed like a teenager on a first date, trying so hard to keep herself calm and collected, trying not to stare at the way his lips looked so deliciously moistened after he sipped from his wine glass. He had pulled his hair back to a tiny ponytail behind his head while they ate, but a few stray wisps framed his face like a prince and she could barely peel her eyes away from watching him.

After dinner, they took a ride in a black cab and ended up around the Tower of London and its famous bridge. Few cars were crossing it, so the sound over the River Thames wasn't as industrial as it usually was. Instead, the slightly choppy water made small splashes up against the wall as they walked alongside of it, admiring what the muggles had done with lighting one of London's most popular historical pieces.

"So many witches and wizards have passed through those gates over the years. It's amazing to know that the muggles haven't a clue; it's so obvious, too," Sirius said as the back of his hand brushed against hers. Hermione turned her head quickly on him, intrigued with the new discussion, and he was quick to tease, "Oh, did you not know? I suppose you must have missed that book that explained that-"

"Bite your tongue, Black, I know all about the history that the muggles believe are just urban legends," she was quick to defend.

When her hand brushed against his again, he took it to hold, "Calm down, it's all right if there's something out there you don't know about. Believe me; I'm sure I know a few things you don't."

After taking her hand, she took no time to interlace her fingers with his and turned around on him as they stopped on the path that took them along the river bank, "Is that so?"

The anxious water splashed up against the centuries old wall they stood on in front of the Tower, covering up any sounds in the distance that were too mechanical. A few ravens squawked nearby, finishing the remnants of a tourists' afternoon snack that lay atop a garbage bin. The still night had picked up a breeze and the only way to defend themselves from the slight chill was to stand closer…closer than they already were.

"I can almost bet on it," he purred with a hypnotic voice.

It was apparent they weren't talking legends or architecture anymore. They focused on the sounds around them, the passers-by that joined them, the birds flying overhead back into the center of the Tower to hold their well known legend intact. They took it in like a new realization and both of them revealed the hidden smirk that lingered over their lips like a secret.

"Perhaps, you can teach me sometime," she slowed her words as she felt a hand rising up under her hair and resting on her neck.

"I would love to," he got the last word in, right before he kissed her with poetry on the brain.

It had been eight years since his escape from Azkaban. Sirius Black's picture had been all over the newspapers, the telly, on the top of everyone's conversations both in the wizarding world and the muggle world. There was a time where he had no refuge anywhere and with that scruffy exterior and tattered clothes, who would? As a teenager, she'd help Harry correspond with Sirius through means of letters and meetings in caves outside Hogsmeade until housing was established. Each time, she found herself secretly intrigued by a man who embraced death, escaped from the impossible and had a heart so large, there was enough to be a father figure to his best friend's son, remaining that loyal friend he would have died for. How could this not be a romantic figure? How could Sirius not be respected as an idol, a rebel, a soldier of war? A wizard that had the smarts for both book and street and always knew where good was to prevail. Well, except for when it came to Professor Snape. He was wrong about that one.

He was an experience all of his own. To know him was an honor, to believe him was a gift, to touch him was a dream, and to have him kiss you was euphoric. Hermione thought all of these things as he pulled away to whisper sincere words in her ears that she forbid herself to be turned on without her say-so.

As his husky words whispered, "I want to know you inside, Hermione," she knew right away he was thinking the literal sense, but also the naughty double entendre'.

She wasn't completely oblivious to where they were going; it'd been a long time coming and she knew that it wasn't going to be long from now that she was going to betray her mind and submit to his pleasure. She wasn't as innocent as she might appear to others. Quite the devious one with fleeting thoughts of him absolutely bare, crossing her mind as he nibbled on her lip gently. She saw envisioned herself looking up at him from below his waist and looking down at him below hers. A whisper of his name when he pulled away from her to glance back at some on-lookers was a small foreshadowing of what she was capable of when in the throes of passion.

Like a classical piece building up its crescendo, eventually their intimate moment was bringing them back to the ground. With a brief glance, Sirius was looking down at the brainy young witch in his arms with eyes of intrigue. She'd left him in awe, just she being herself. No rendition of any particular stereotype that she might have thought he'd want. She only had sincere thoughts for a lonely man that's lived in a dark room for a very long time, who was finding a light ahead of him.

The enchanting breeze that lifted wisps of each other's hair from time to time, kissed their warm faces like a blessing. They were more aware of the sounds around them coming into earshot, realizing that they were not the only ones in the world.

"Shall we end this evening with a drink at the Leaky Cauldron?" Sirius whispered as he ran the back of his hand down her rose cheek.

She sighed with airy disappointment with his use of the word, "end" but thought no more about it when she weighed the gamble, "They'll know us there. Well, they'll know you there, anyway."

He twitched his nose in a tease and added, "Then we'll just have to play it low key and not draw attention to ourselves."

"HEY, SIRIUS!" Tom, the bartender, yelled upon catching the celebrity face coming into his pub, "Sirius Black, everybody!"

The pub wasn't silenced as it appeared it was awfully late for anyone to be sober enough to recognize anyone new coming in. A few die-hard wizards perched at the bar on stools groaned their opinion as a few singles turned their heads. A couple of rowdy men in the corner, obviously some sort of stag party, cheered Sirius on when they were able to make him out through their own haze of ale and a few women actually got up, circling around him like piranha, to get a better look at him before changing their seats.

Hermione glanced down smiling as he waved to them like a politician. She should have known that Sirius Black was anything but, low key. Sighing to herself she stayed behind and allowed him to find a table for the two of them. Surveying the rather crowded pub, it was apparent that not much privacy was to be had for them since many of the darker corners were already occupied by wizards, so they settled on a table by the wall. The pub was already pretty dark, so after Sirius's fanfare, they shouldn't be noticed much.

Sirius pulled out the chair to the intimate table with the single candle illuminating their space and gracefully pushed it in for her. Such a gentlemanly gesture in such an establishment was something she wasn't normally accustomed to.

She took her seat and glanced up at him, "Low key, you say?"

He briefly sat in the chair next to her before fetching their butterbeers and placed a hand over hers, "I didn't think it'd be like this, Hermione, honest."

Sirius wanted her to believe he was being sincere and though the popularity wasn't bad and he was able to get away with more than usual, he was trying to focus on what she wanted. His memory flashed back to their intimate kiss by the Tower and he gave her hand a light squeeze under his grasp. It was killing him not to touch her as affectionately like he had been all night. But, they were in a unique situation and they couldn't let their little relationship out too early, for fear that people, or Harry, might not be quite supportive of it.

Giving him a small smile, Hermione excused herself to the loo. He stood to fetch their drinks from the bar, but before doing so, lifted her hand to his mouth and quickly kissed it, before letting her go.

The second Hermione was out of sight, the two ladies that had moved closer, watched him with seductive dark eyes. He couldn't help but give the girls a wink, but played on no more than that. He saw how the two ladies reacted, and knew that if Hermione had caught them leering at him the way they were, she might have thought he instigated it.

Tom the bar keep called over to him, giving Sirius drinks and inquired about the young girl he had with him.

"She's just a friend, Tom. Did the dinner thing and now we're out for a drink," he calmly socialized.

"She a pretty young thing, Sirius. Looks kind of familiar. I think she's been in here before…with….with Harry Potter! That's it. She's your Harry's friend," Tom said, cleaning a mug and then letting the rag continue to clean it as he engrossed Sirius in further conversation.

"Yes, she's a good friend of my Harry," Sirius nodded, holding the steins of foaming butterbeer in his hands, "Thanks, Tom."

Sirius returned to the table, seconds before Hermione came back, still noticing the leering ladies behind him. He offered cheers with Hermione as he raised his mug upon her sitting down and finished with small talk.

"So, when are you going to tell me who it was you went out with before?" Sirius baited, trying to get it out of her. The truth was killing him and he knew she'd have to tell him sometime.

Before she took a chug from her butterbeer, she wildly shook her head, not answering. After setting the glass down, she smiled and leaned in, "Try all you want. I'm not telling you, yet."

He winced, like he had a toothache and whispered, "It's not someone with any contagious diseases is it?"

Hermione bit her lip, stifling a good chuckle and shook her head.

"It's not someone extremely ugly, that I'm going to be considered as your pity date, is it?"

She was somewhat offended with that last remark and playfully ignored him.

"It's Hagrid, isn't it? I knew it! I knew it!" Sirius said, nodding uncontrollably and ignoring her protests at the very idea.

Like a dramatic actor on stage, he pretended to swig his beer to drain his sorrows, while she playfully pulled on his arm to get his attention. She snaked her hand around his neck, playing with his soft black hair, laughing from ear to ear.

He closed his eyes to listen to her sweet laugh and leaned in closer to her face, "Then kiss me."

Hermione did not move as he moved mere inches from her face, only smiled. She bit her lip at the idea of kissing him in a very open wizard establishment for fear of them being discovered. Maybe no one would notice, maybe everyone would watch. Regardless, he was set on it being Hagrid and he wouldn't budge otherwise.

He kept his whisper low, "Kiss me and prove to me, it's not Hagrid."

Bracing herself, she whispered, "It's not Hagrid."

His smile faltered as he raised an eyebrow, not yet convinced. She let out a little huff and quickly kissed him, letting her lips bless his for longer than anything considered to be chaste.

Just like by the river, the sounds around them drowned out and they only heard one another. Their lips stilled together, like two young children experimenting and after a few warm moments, they pulled away.

With a satisfied smirk, Sirius whispered to her, "All right, I believe that it wasn't Hagrid."

_If Snape only knew you were comparing him to Hagrid, he'd be wearing your hide as a coat._

She smiled sweetly for him, still slightly mesmerized by the short kiss they shared and for that brief moment, didn't care if anyone saw, but hoped to Merlin the women leering at Sirius caught it.

They finished up their drinks and decided it was time to retire home. Sirius waved good-night to Tom, and a few others that tried for his attention or affection. Like a gentleman of old, he opened the door for her that opened up to the brick wall right before Diagon Alley.

He took her hand in his and confirmed, "Home?"

Feeling the security in his hands, she nodded and pushed herself closer to him, so they could apparate together. Like a whirlwind, both physical and mentally, they were whipped around with their hair blowing about them, pulling each other closer into the encompassing euphoric feeling.

They apparated into an alley by their street, hidden behind bushes from the naked eyes of muggles that harbored in the homes around them. Whistling a calming tune, Sirius dropped her hand and put his arm around her shoulders to keep her close to him. Gratefully, Hermione reciprocated and looped her arm around his waist as she allowed him to pull her into him as they walked together, close.

Hermione hid her grin as she rested her head on his shoulder, letting a few stray strands of his hair tickle her face. His whistling was soothing to the ears and their close embrace felt so right. Though she wanted to keep them a secret for the time being, she felt not a care if the entire world were to find out right that moment, if it meant she could feel this good for awhile. Of course, then there was the vision of Harry, this charming man's godson and her best friend, settling with the idea. Would he be for it, or against it? Would Harry feel that she had taken away the only thing that really was his, the father figure he so hungered for? Was their possible relationship going to be too close to home, that Harry would only be concerned if they broke up, would there be a side he'd have to choose?

Though that lingered in her mind, she really didn't want to focus on it, too soon. She felt so good walking alongside of him, having him hold her, letting him kiss her, basking in the tabloid taboo waiting to happen. She could already see the headlines now: Potter's Best Friend steels his only Father Figure or Muggleborn Bewitches Black.

Whatever it was going to be would have to wait until they sorted out whatever they were going to endeavor. Sirius was not in the clear, as of yet, he still had a bit to make up for. She wasn't letting him off that easy.

They entered into the foyer, removing their scarves and coats and hanging them on the rack. They stepped a few feet more into the house, before Sirius stopped Hermione by reaching for her hand. Holding a finger to his lips, he wanted to keep her quiet as he tuned in his excellent hearing to discover the sound erupting from upstairs. He feared for their safety with the unknown sound, having believed that the portraits were all settled and it was actually a person, or two people, making the obvious unsettling of the centuries old house.

Slowly reaching for his wand and getting ready to strike incase whomever, or whatever was about to surprise them before they got a chance to investigate the foreign noise. Like an animal enduring torture, the human voices nearly sounded like a sacrifice was being made and only the two of them remained available in the house to release it.

"What's that?" Sirius whispered, ready for her opinion.

"SILENCING CHARM!" she screamed, reminding a frolicking Remus and Tonks that they had neglected to charm their bedroom. She sighed and started for the kitchen shaking her head in disapproval.

Not feeling Sirius close behind on her foot, she turned around to see him absolutely frozen in his tracks. Wand still at the ready, waiting to strike whatever being might attack them. In slow motion, you could see Sirius's mind registering what the noise actually was. As if someone had just told him his mother was walking around his bedroom in the nude, his face erupted into a series of disgusted gagging gestures of repulsion.

Smiling with his comical, but honest act, Hermione reached for him to console the sickened Padfoot. She reached to take away his wand and set it on a nearby table and replaced her hand in his to help him take a few steps away from the bottom of the staircase.

"That was," he paused, searching for the right words, "The most horrifying thing I've ever heard."

"They forget to put the charm on, sometimes," she confirmed, putting an arm around him and taking small delicate steps with him towards the kitchen.

He was still making gagging noises, like he'd just swallowed a fly, "The sound of my best friend and my," he gagged, "my cousin having sex! That was..."

"I know, sweetheart," she played on, helping him walk to the kitchen.

"That was just nauseating."

"I know, I know," she consoled and gave him something else to think about, "We'll just have to make sure to have really loud sex when they first come home, too."

Just as planned, he immediately broke out of his funk and straightened up, giving him her full attention, like a horny fourteen-year-old boy, "We should go start, right now!"

Her laughter filled his hears as he playfully pulled her back towards the bottom of the stairs in order to take her up on the threat, while fumbling with his jeans zipper. How he'd love to call her out on it, but he knew she wasn't going to give in so quickly. She was able to wriggle out of his grasp and make a break for the kitchen door. Her feet carried her down the steps, but she could feel him close on her heel as she dead ended at the kitchen sink.

With no other retreat, she turned around, pressing her back against the counter as he closed in on her with confident steps with darkened eyes and a firm brow. She felt no fear in letting him finally get to her. If it didn't appear too easy, she would have gladly taken him up on her threat and allowed him to drag her upstairs so they could stop this pussy-footing around with their cat and mouse game. Instead, he closed any space between them as he pushed her up tighter against the counter and placed his hands around her face, moving the hair that had fallen in front of her cheeks in his teasing chase.

He was poised to kiss her, but requested permission first, "May I?"

_May you what? Take me upstairs? Yes. Kiss me? Oh, why not. _Her vocal chords only managed to whisper, "Please."


	17. No One Courts Anymore

_A note from Serade Black:__ So, I've had time to get ahead of myself and I've got the next 3 chapters written (of course, they sooo need to be tweeked) and I can proudly say that you lot will finally have a taste of the somethings you all have been salivating for. _

_So, I proudly alert that this story at is the PG-13 rating and the more mature version can be found on my LJ community, where the link is on my bio page._

Chapter 17

"**No One Courts Anymore"**

"Hermione, be sure to be back promptly by 2 o'clock, all right? We're having a meeting in the conference room about a new assignment and we need everyone's input," Mr. Robards, Head Auror, confirmed before Hermione was released for lunch.

Her stomach had been positively growling and her mind really needed a proper pick-me-up from the muggle coffee shop around the corner. She was just tidying up a few papers on her desk from Ron's last pen searching; she hated to leave it in such disarray in front of her superiors. Why Ron never tried to accel in his cleaning habits was beyond her.

Throwing her bag over her shoulder and pushing in her chair, she nodded to her boss and confirmed that she wouldn't be late. She even mentioned she'd shorten her lunch break in order to get back to the Ministry in time to prepare for whatever they were going to go over.

"Good Granger, because this might just be the opportunity you need in order to finally get out there and do some field work. I'm sure, by now, you want to get out from behind that desk," Mr. Robards added as he disappeared back into his office.

A rushing excitement started to settle in her bones as her mind flirted with the idea of a promotion. Finally, after months and months of pen pushing and decoding, she was finally going to be able to use her talents outside the office and not just from the confines of a three-walled cubicle with excellent windows. Trying to hide her enthusiasm, she just mentally chopped off more time from her lunch break to ensure her early return and preparation. From what had hoped to be a good lunch, it just got shortened to a short latte and only one chapter from her book.

Hermione settled in at a window seat at the corner Starbucks. It was too chilly to sit outside to read and people watch, so instead she sat up at the bar that overlooked the busy street ahead of her. Several muggles walked briskly past her, starting to display more colorful scarves and coats as the season started to change cooler. Young women talked on their cell phones, walking obliviously into others' direction, allowing the world to revolve around them. Older men followed said young women on their lunch break stroll from whatever big corporate building they were employed by. The activity in front of her always told a story of an ignorant materialistic world, and she was so glad she knew what was _really_ going on out there. Taking a sip from her mug and turning the page, she started the new chapter.

A cell phoned girl was busily walking down the sidewalk, rambling on to her friend about what latest style of shoes she was preparing to buy. Along her walk, she was momentarily distracted by a dark handsome man with shoulder black hair coming out from an alley and unzipping his leather jacket. She paused in mid-sentence, having not been prepared to notice such a striking man who smiled friendly at her as he walked by. The voice over the phone called out to get the distracted girl's attention again and continued on with their discussion of pumps without skipping too much of a beat.

Sirius had just left the Leaky Cauldron not too far away, having just finished up on a stop into Diagon Alley to pick up a new Chudley Cannon's jumper to support his godson's team. Though tempted to stay for a pint, he had other plans in mind. He was aware of the roads he was crossing, having mentally been on the hunt for a particular coffee shop. His feet had turned him onto Oxford Street where he was met with just the vision he was looking for.

The independent brainy witch sat on the stool facing out the window of Starbucks, completely unaware of the peeping ex-con that watched her from a few feet away. He watched how her head rested on the back of her hand, dreaming away to far off lands that her eyes initiated the journey with her reading. Engrossed in her book, she paused in mid sentence to lift the cup from the saucer next to her and raise it to her lips. Sirius couldn't help but smile to himself with the way those lips alone were able to bewitch him.

Finally breaking his entrancement, he walked up to the glass in front of her and knocked on it lightly with his knuckles. She lifted her head to see the visitor her face brightened once she saw it was the man who invaded her thoughts and prevented her from actually reading the book that lay open in front of her. She turned the page, just so she could look like she was reading to anyone watching her, but the words did not stick in her brain.

Feeling a prison break of butterflies in her stomach as he came into the coffee shop to greet her, she spun around on her stool just in time to feel his hand reach for her. He rested on the high seat next to her and placed a hand on her knee to lean in and offer her a kiss on the cheek. A kiss on the lips in public was something they weren't ready for.

"What are you doing here?" she smiled, casually resting her hand over his.

"I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd say hello. You mentioned that you liked to take lunch at the nearby Starbucks, so I took a chance," he charmed, giving her that wink that witches would fall all over themselves for.

He looked devilishly handsome with his fitting jeans, leather jacket and hair flopping around his face like a rock star. She bit her lip in needy anticipation of dragging him off to an alleyway to kiss him hello, properly.

"You were in the neighborhood? Way over here?" she baited, calling him out. They were miles from Grimmauld Place.

"Yes, I have an appointment this afternoon," he explained, letting his eyes fall down the front of her sweater that hugged her bosoms nicely.

"Well, I'm sorry I can't spend much time with you, but I have to get back to the Ministry for a meeting, myself."

"Something good going on, then?" he inquired.

"I don't know yet, but Robards made sure I would be back in time, and I don't want to disappoint him. He said it was something that might get me out in the field some more, and I'm really ready to get out there. Hopefully, I'll take down some Death Eaters in the process."

He smiled with the way her eyes lit up with a possible mission, "I'm sure you'll be wonderful," he couldn't help but run a finger down her cheek. "Well, let's quick find a dark alley so I can shag you senseless, I mean, kiss you gentleman-like and I'll walk you back to the Ministry."

Hermione bowed her head to avoid him seeing her blush over his obvious slip of the tongue. Standing tall over her, he closed her book and ushered him ahead of him as he opened the door for her like an old-fashioned gentleman. Taking a deep breath to calm herself from the anticipation of their walk together, she watched him come up next to her and bow his head as they walked. He too appeared to be smitten with their innocent flirtation, feeling quite confident that whatever damage he had caused just a few weeks prior to this, was quickly soothing away, paving the way for something better.

They crossed a block in silence, glancing back at one another on their way back to the ministry. She was almost ashamed of herself by feeling like giddy school girl over her companion, but she couldn't help herself as it was such a dramatic change from what she was used to. Being with Snape had it's advantages, that being able to converse over scientific things that they had in common, straight into literature, with a dabble in old books they were familiar with in their independent studies. Sirius, on the other hand, though not officially her new beau, was a different sort. Though highly intelligent, he had an air about him when it came to practical arts that were a great companion to her book knowledge. Several opportunities around the house and at Order meetings proved him to be a worthy adversary in many ways, and to her surprise, he had revealed to her that he had received one more O.W.L. than she did on her Hogwarts marks. Unlike her, he actually understood Divination, whereas she chuckled at the mere mention of the subject to try and prove how unnecessary it was.

_Sirius made a comment one day on that particular heated discussion, "Those that are too ignorant to harness the magic are usually oblivious to their gifts."_

"_What are you saying, Sirius?" Hermione demanded sternly while she watched him ascend up the stairs, punching the lucky spot where his mother's portrait once hung._

_He turned around to face the stubborn witch who stood with a hand arrogantly resting on her hip, "I'm just saying, Miss Granger, that though you find the subject a bit of a joke, I feel that you might be better versed in it than you want to believe."_

"_Sirius, I hardly believe that one can see the future out of grounds still in a tea cup! The possibility of it actually representing anything, is ridiculous, so no, I don't think I harbor anything noteworthy of the subject, because it's..." she established, flailing her hands about her in a mad manner._

"_You're being stubborn," he quietly confirmed for her, like a wise prophet._

"_No, I'm being rational."_

"_Harry told me you have dreams, Hermione. Remember when he did? Remember when he had dreams that told him of Voldemort?" Sirius challenged, stepping down one stair._

"_That was different, He was controlling Harry and making him see those things," she was quick to quip._

"_You're half right, love. But, let's talk about you..."_

"_No, we're done on the matter, Sirius. It's pointless and absolutely mad," she huffed, getting more and more irritated over their silly argument._

_  
Sirius leaned over the banister as he watched Hermione disappear into the kitchen like she was on fire, "Pay more attention to your dreams, Hermione!"_

The two of them started to pick up their pace a little more, trying to rush to an unknown place. Both had their eye open for the mentioned alleyway and just when they were about a block from the phone box that would take them to the Ministry, Sirius grabbed her hand and pulled her into a deeply shadowed column between two buildings.

He was carrying her book and immediately dropped it as he swung her around in front of him, throwing her up against the stone wall with anxious passion. She let go over her purse to let it fall to the ground beside them, as the shadows enveloped them in their prospective interlude.

Like he hadn't drunk water in days, he sought hydration in her lips like she was the nectar of life. Her arms snaked around his neck as his hands squeezed her waist to him possessively. Sirius's force practically lifted her off her feet as he leaned into her to forcefully invade her mouth, declaring it his. She let out light whimpers of pleasure with the way he practically took her there in the alley. His hands moved all over her, from her waist, down her thigh, up her ribcage, over her arms that were wrapped around his neck. He even teased a hand up under her sweater to touch the soft skin of her lower back, raising it high enough to feel the clasp of her bra.

He felt brazenly confident.

Their hearts beat rapidly, accelerating the kiss into overdrive like two teenagers on Prom night, racing against curfew. The sound of rubbing leather filled their ears from the friction of Sirius's jacket, reminding them that they were heating up way too fast for the current time.

With exhausted breath, Hermione pulled away, "If I'm late for my meeting, I'm telling Robards it was your fault."

"That's fine," Sirius replied gasping for air like a mile runner, "your boss likes me."

The seedy sounds of the alley and cars passing down the road started to bring her back and she found the strength to release her grip. He was able to calm his restless hands and loosened his hold on her waist. As the fog started to lift from their blurry vision, one look at her disheveled state and he knew he'd pushed her further than she'd ever been on an afternoon lunch break.

A slow mischievous grin crossed his lips, "You know what I want to do with you tonight?"

She could only imagine what he was suggesting, "Make out like teenagers?"

He murmured his approval, "If that's what you want to call it."

With their pulse rates still calming to a norm, they got into the phone booth that took them to the Ministry, passed the fountain and onto the elevator that took them to the Auror floor. She smiled proudly behind him as she watched so many greeting him and shaking his hand, congratulating him on his return from one of the most popular mysteries in the wizarding world.

"Thank you for walking me back to work. I don't want you to be late for your meeting," she said as the elevator doors opened.

"Oh, I've got plenty of time to make it. It was worth the walk to be with you," he whispered low and only to her as they moved away from the path to the elevator.

Looking around to make sure no one could hear them, she whispered back, "I'll see you tonight, then?"

"I cannot wait," he replied as she gave him a bright smile and turned to leave. "Hey, you don't still have your Hogwarts uniform, do you?"

She glanced back at him, absolutely horrified and hoping she was the only one to hear that. She immediately put on a frozen face of ignorance and walked away, pretending it wasn't he was calling out to. Along the way, she passed Gawain Robards, her boss, and smiled friendly at him to show that she was back in time.

"Sirius Black, so glad to have you here. You're early," the Head Auror said upon greeting him with a handshake.

Hermione froze in her tracks and turned around to see the ex-con shaking hands with her boss like life long friends. Mr. Robards ushered Sirius back in her general direction, making eye contact with her, as if she was the one he was actually coming to see. Thinking back, it never even donned on her what his appointment might have been.

"Miss Granger, can you see to it that Mr. Black here is shown the conference room? Be sure to grab your notes as well, I have a very important assignment for you," Mr. Robards instructed, as she was handed back to Sirius like a stranger.

"You're my two o'clock meeting?" she suspiciously smiled.

"I guess that would make you my two o'clock appointment," he quipped, shaking Kingsley's hand over his cubical wall.

"Good to see you, Black. Sorry to see that you've been assigned to Granger for the time being. That's all right, I'll be sure to fill you in on everything correctly, later over a pint," Kingsley added, feigning ill towards Hermione.

"Eh, she can't be that bad, Kingsley," Sirius added as the two men glanced over at her. "At least she's not bad to look at."

"Perhaps, but it's when she opens that trap of hers," Kingsley grimaced.

Sirius chuckled over the banter, knowing that everything between them here at work was all in jest. Back at the Order meetings, they liked each other very much.

Hermione continued down the hallway with Sirius in tow, allowing him to stop every few feet to shake more hands than a politician running for office. She rounded the corner of her cubical by the windows displaying Times Square in New York where Ron was using her seat as a footstool.

"Hey, Sirius, good to see you," Ron said, reaching out to shake his best friend's godfather as a mild substitute for Harry. "Hermione, you know about the two o'clock meeting, right?"

Ron had just glanced at his watch, noticing the time and started to collect his own messy notes to take into the conference office. He was no where near as prepared as Hermione for last minute meetings, but his clever quick thinking usually made up for it. He'd been given the heat over the importance of their possible assignment out in the field, so he gave himself at least three minutes extra to prepare.

"I do and he's right here," she said, picking up her short stack of notebooks and a couple of extra pens.

"Sirius? What for?" Ron asked completely clueless.

"I think its better we not say, for right now, Ronald," she quickly replied, hiding any Order business in the office for curious ears.

He didn't really understand, but nodded anyway, realizing that more pressing things, like getting into the conference room on time, were more important. He leaned over her and nicked one of her extra quills and gave her pucker lips to thank her.

She didn't even bat an eyelash, since that was the norm between them. She managed to remain clear and organized and he always knew where she'd stash her extra ink and quick quotes quills for him to "borrow".

"Hermione, did you put your lipstick on while riding a broom?" he called back as he dashed passed Sirius and was out of sight.

"Why?" she quickly asked, grabbing a mirror from her bag and flipping it open to view her reflection.

To her surprise, her rose colored lipstick was smeared over the lining of her lips like she'd allowed a two-year-old to apply it. Definite proof that she was just on the verge of shag central back in the alley way, with no thanks to her co-conspirator. She immediately looked over at Sirius to examine any evidence that might have been left on him, but all he did was smirk, displaying a rather clean mouth himself. She scowled at him for not telling her, but he showed no sympathy, only pride.

The two followed after Ron and took their seats in the conference room. There Hermione prepared herself to take notes, folding her notebook out and placing a couple of quills beside it. A few more Aurors filtered in, taking seats or locating a spot against the wall to lean, all greeting Sirius with friendly nods and a few winks and bitten lips from the women of the department.

Gawain Robards was the last to come into the room, shut the door for privacy behind him, leaving those that weren't invited out and keep to their current assignments. He went around the room, counting all the wizards and witches he had instructed to join them at this meeting and saw the turn out was just to his liking. A good dozen were on par with this new assignment and he immediately went right into business.

"Good afternoon, we'll get right down into it. Ladies and Gentlemen, if you've not already introduce or been hiding under a rock for the last twenty years, this is Sirius Black. Notorious convicted murderer, later pardoned, Pureblood, relatives of some of the darkest wizards out there, Harry Potter's godfather, the first to Return from the Veil in the Department of Mysteries and now, thanks to Kingsley's suggestion, the newest recruit in the Auror Department," Robards announced, beaming as if he couldn't be more proud to have such a celebrity amongst his team.

The room gave a light approving clap, Hermione and Ron smiling broadly to have him back amongst the living again, and settled down to get into the newest mission.

"After taking this suggestion into deep consideration, the Ministry has decided to grandfather Mr. Black into this department for the knowledge he can divulge that we may use against the Death Eaters. We hope, that by his family lineage, he'll be able to help crack codes, give away family secrets, know the locations of some meeting places and overall, assist us in our on-going dark wizard hunt," Robards continued.

"Our youngest recruits, our "rookies", Miss Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, will be with us on this, as well, seeing as they've come a long way to prove themselves. Of course, their connection and relationship with Harry Potter does play a strong factor in this, which is why we know we can trust Sirius in their hands. Miss Granger, you will be assisting Mr. Black by teaching him the basics of the handbook. It will be your and Ron's job to acclimate him in the basic knowledge of the roots of being and Auror, while Shaklebot will be taking him out and training him properly with a close eye by Moody. We'll see to it Mr. Black receives the training at quite a rapid speed, as we feel he is primed and ready and his talents as a gifted wizard will do us great good on our constant mission.

"Williamson, you'll take Mr. Black into the cryptology department where he will be versed in as many different ancient languages to see if anything is already known. We'll preview him with each and every task you all are divided out into doing, seeing if we can get a lead on anything he might already know.

I feel that by having one such as Sirius Black on the team will give us a great advantage and use of power. When assignments change, they will be posted and owls sent out. Until then, Mr. Black, you'll come right with me to be sworn in and we'll start your crash course training immediately," Robards concluded, inviting Sirius to join him out of the room.

The conference room started to clear out with the sound of chairs screeching across the floor and light murmuring of conversation ricocheting off the walls. All but Hermione had stood up, since she was busy taking notes for both she and Sirius, and probably Ron seeing as he never lifted a quill the entire time Robards spoke.

Before getting up, Sirius quickly squeezed Hermione's knee under the table and immediately stood to be none the wiser. With a quiet squeak, she jumped and watched him not look back, but follow Robards out of the room. _If he keeps that up, we're never going to get anything done around here._

The ending hours of her office day were vastly approaching and she hadn't seen Sirius for the rest of the afternoon. She assumed that he was off beginning his physical training, knowing that it wasn't going to be an easy road ahead of him, and had otherwise not thought of them to travel home together.

Though it was great he was getting involved, seeing that the Ministry was using him for their advantage, she didn't see where this was going to permit her to do field work. Unless, Mr. Robards assumed that since she and Sirius were familiar, the field work was teaching him the handbook. After all, who would know it best?

"Can I carry your books for you, young lady?" Sirius purred with a low seductive voice from behind.

Her heart stopped momentarily, melting into the thought that he hadn't forgotten about her. He had waited, or he had searched her out to take her home with him. She spun around to meet his flirting smile and warm eyes, like one does meeting your destiny. She'd felt her self control quickly slipping and they were both posed to greet each other with a friendly kiss, but they knew they weren't in any place to show affection; quite the opposite, especially when her latest assignment had meant they were going to study together tonight.

Without any words, he lifted her messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder to carry her burden of books, notes and other things he found no interest in. He held up her coat for her to put her arms through, like a doting beau and they walked to the doors of the elevator.

"Ron's gone, already?" Sirius inquired, noticing that she was practically the only one left in the office at that hour, aside from another rookie who looked quite frustrated over a stack of scrolls.

"Oh, yes," she hummed. "He usually sneaks out a half hour early and I usually end up staying a half hour later. Nothing much has changed since Hogwarts, Sirius," she sighed, pushing the button to call for the elevator. "What did you do this afternoon?"

"Well, I got sworn in," he paused, "right after they did the most intense physical that I believe I'm fit for childbirth. I'm convinced the nurse might be a severe dominatrix at night. I was probed in places, I didn't feel were necessary for dark wizard catching, but Olga seemed to think that she just needed to – "

"I get it!" she cut him off, not wanting for him to continue on about probing.

Once in a safe place in the foyer of the Ministry, she took his arm and they apparated back to the street of Grimmauld Place. They both walked into the house, embracing that warm toasting feeling from a nice fire in the sitting room on their left. She concluded that her considerate roommate must have prepared it for her, before going out that evening. Hermione greeted the portraits as she removed her scarf, inquiring if Remus was home.

Sirius's grandfather, the same one that warned him of Hermione's talents when they were playing around that afternoon when she was cleaning, told her that he'd left not too long ago.

The bright witch turned around to face Sirius who was just hanging his jacket up on the coat rack, "Great, we're alone. You go start the kettle and I'm going to run upstairs to change, before we start. We'll do it in the sitting room."

"Whatever you say," he confirmed devilishly.

She turned on her heel to dash up the stairs, but before she got very far, Sirius reached out for her arm and pulled her back to him like in a romance film. She bounced against him, looking up curious for the sudden gesture. Very casually, he leaned in and kissed her like one did for a brief good-bye and then let her go, letting his eyes already undress her as she went up the stairs.

"So, you _are_ courting the muggleborn," his grandfather's portrait confirmed with a clucking tongue.

Sirius rolled his eyes towards the portrait and gave him a pathetic look, "No one _courts_ anyone anymore, grandfather and I don't even want to hear one word from you saying anything about her not being a pureblood."

Pollux Black looked bemused that times had changed as such, "Well, I wasn't going to say a word about that. Contrary to what others may think, and don't you dare tell any of the other portraits, I rather like the girl. She's a smart one, a pretty one, she'll make for excellent breeding," he boasted.

Sirius looked absolutely repulsed by the last comment, "Don't put it like that, grandfather."

"What, you're not going to have children?" Pollux inquired, watching the end of the Black bloodline walking away from him defiantly.

"Not yet! Just going to keep practicing!" Sirius called out over his shoulder, leaving his grandfather in a state of sheer shock of the indecency.

Sirius set the kettle and practically danced around the kitchen eagerly as his dirty mind anticipated the night's activities. He only hoped that Remus stayed out long enough for them to have some privacy, or he was going to have to throw her over his shoulder caveman-style and finish her up in his own room.

As he came out of the kitchen, he levitated two cups of tea into the sitting room. He passed his grandfather's portrait again and said, "And just incase you feel like you need to voice your opinion..._Silencio!_"

Pollux Black stared at Sirius, stunned. He tried to talk, but his voice was on mute. He made like he was yelling at his grandson, only to have nothing come out but air. After a few attempts, his grandfather resorted to crude hand gestures only his mother could love. A pleased Sirius nodded his appreciation of the "silence is golden" theory and gently placed the two cups of tea on the side tables to the old Victorian divan.

Feeling that tea wasn't going to cut it for the evening, he went over to the small hutch against the wall that carried fine family china and opened up the bottom cabinets. He retrieved a bottle of Merlot, 1990, and uncorked it to allow it to breathe for a bit, before they had their first glass together.

The Casanova went around the room extinguishing a few brighter lanterns, using only a few candles to illuminate the room. The fire across the room crackled quietly, setting soothing ambient sounds for the evening.

With a final look-over in the mirror, he ran a hand through his hair, checked his breath and unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. A hint of a tattoo teased through the open gap, giving him dangerous, but approachable character. An arrogant smirk confirmed he didn't look half bad for a man in his mid thirties who had done twelve years in prison and five years floating in absolute nothing. One more hand through the hair to tussle it more and his devilish imagination began to plan out things he was about to do to a twenty-one-year-old's body that would make Lolita blush.

Sirius was as anxious as a school boy and he took his seat on the sofa. He raised his chin, picturing himself in the most alluring position and spread his arms wide around the back of the couch with one leg propped up, as he waited for his young witch to come back downstairs. He was going to make her howl at the moon in a matter of hours, he was going to feel her nails clawing down his back and if he had to, he would make love to her right there in the foyer where his grandfather's portrait hung, just to make a point.

_Sirius Black was back._

Hermione finally emerged from her bedroom, pulling her hair back into a puffy ponytail as she trotted down the stairs. She noticed that most of the torches in the foyer were out, and she wondered if a breeze hadn't blown in through a window to extinguish them. It was pretty windy outside when they came in for the night.

"Sirius, where are you?" her heavenly voice called out for him.

"I'm in the sitting room, like you said, love," he crooned.

She took the last couple of stairs and froze when she saw him lounging about. She wore a tank top and pajama pants, holding a curious look on her face, "What are you doing? We can't study like this."

"STUDY!?" he cried out in pain.


	18. The Study Session

_A note from Serade Black:__ This chapter is definitely rated PG13. It's edited and cut to give you the proper illusion to the scene if you are too young to read the unedited version. Again, those that wish for the original director's, NC17 cut can read it at my livejournal (link is on bio page for just when you go to my list of stories…you should know). That one is MUCH longer._

_Be sure to check out the RETURNED trailer I put together, complete with music and scenes from the story (well, kind of…you'll get it if you've been reading along). _

_RJLupin'sKat – forgive me darling, I seemed to have stolen your "spacing" idea. Don't worry, I'll send Sirius over to make up for my theft. ;)_

_Enjoy folks – you're finally getting a taste of what's to come._

Chapter 18

"Yes, we're going to study the Auror handbook," she reminded, lighting one of the several torches that were put out, flushing more light into the room. "What did you think we were going to do?"

Sirius's tongue practically hung out of this mouth as he gasped for air like a fish, "I thought," he was at a loss for words, "we were going to make-out like teenagers!"

Hermione stilled as her wand was extended to the next torch fixture and glanced back at him, slowly allowing his intentions to sneak in, causing a slight giggle, "Is that what this is about?"

As the light illuminated more than just the room, she saw how much he had prepared, down to the breathing bottle of wine and two glasses at its side, which sat on the hutch nearby. Her face showed that of sweet pity as she caught the way his shirt hung open and his arms hugging the back of the sofa looking like quite an inviting dessert.

"That's what I thought," he confessed like a whimpering puppy having his toy taken away.

Hermione could feel the blush in her cheeks as they warmed, watching him eyeing her like the sex object she was in her own imagination. She needed to be more assertive and correct the tone for the evening, "No, we have to do this, first. You have to be a fully trained Auror in less than two weeks. We don't have time to be teenagers, Sirius."

"But...but..." he tried.

She leaned over to be at his level when he moved to the edge of the sofa, appearing like he was taking a punishment from his parents, "No, buts, Sirius," she corrected. "This has to be done, first. You're my homework for now and I have to really show it for Robards, if I expect to get out from behind that desk."

A defeated Sirius paid no attention to what she was saying, but to her lack of undergarments beneath her tank top, "You don't expect me to concentrate when you're dressed like that, do you?"

"What? A tank top and pj's?" she questioned, looking down at her dreary attire.

Sirius showed no change, "You're barefoot, Hermione. You know what that does to me."

"Would it help if I went upstairs to change into sweatpants, a turtleneck and trainers?" she asked jokingly.

He fell back against the couch, slouching like a pouting child, "No, its fine. We'll study."

Hermione curved the side of her mouth into a smile and went to go fetch her book from her bag. When she returned, he was still slouched, showing no interest in the required duty and more into how many disgusted faces he could make.

"You stop that right now, or I'm going to tell them that you're not interested in the mission," she threatened, holding a hand on her hip to await his decision.

"Fine," he sulked, "But, YOU have to read it to me like we do the poetry."

She rolled her eyes and sat down on the couch next to him, "Fine. You're such a child."

"And, you're sitting right here," he patted practically on his lap, to the spot next to him, "if all you're doing is reading, then I at least need some kind of physical contact to sate me."

She repositioned herself to his precise location and pressed her back close against his chest and under his arm, "You're going to go to sleep, aren't you?"

He sighed, tilting his head back in extra drama, "No, I'm not going to go to sleep." She opened the old book to the beginning chapter and started to peruse what was necessary to start with for him. "I'm just going to stare right down your shirt from back here," he teased getting a good look indeed down the front of her tank.

She jumped out of his clutches and whirled around on him, "Sirius Black, if you don't behave I'm serious about telling on you. I don't care how charming you think you are, this is a chance to excel," she started to giggle at how ridiculous she sounded while she scolded him for just being himself, "..to excel in my career. I would appreciate it if you would at least _pretend_ to be interested in this!"

He looked at her with wide eyes and a quivering lip, trying to stifle a chuckle. She, too, did what she could to contain herself, admitting that their situation was getting very silly.

"All right, I'll pretend," he began, feigning innocence.

"Thank you," she replied, absolutely beaten.

He quickly put his hands around her waist as soon as she turned back around and lifted her onto his lap, "But, now you have to do it from a new position."

She squirmed in his grasp trying to break free from his clutches, but it was no use. The more she wiggled, the tighter he held her to him and the harder he pressed her down on his lap. The thin layer of the pajama bottoms could tell what part of his lap was getting the most action and she didn't seem to let up, only making him suffer more. Finally, in the end, he won. She stopped wriggling about, stopped fighting him and finally regained some composure to stop laughing as he practically tickled her.

"Now, if you're done, I'm waiting for my lesson to begin," he soothed, folding his hands over her stomach pretending to be interested in what information laid inside the book she was going to read him.

There was no use arguing with him. He held her tight and close against him, not at all ready to let her go. Then again, did she really want to? There she was, being held against a man who made women her mother's age cream their panties with the very idea of him. Sirius Black was the very man your mother warned you about and she was starting to see why – he was absolute heaven. He had trouble written all over him, he was the type to break your heart and leave you be, but after all the misunderstandings they'd had, she started to strongly believe that that was never his intention. Not when she was Harry's best friend and confidant.

Giving in, Hermione opened her book and started to read him the first chapter of the handbook given to all Aurors at the Ministry. A step-by-step guide how to adhere to rules made by the ancient ones, how to act as an Auror, ethics and overall general behavior. It didn't take long to realize that rules were always made to be broken and he would make it a life's work to break their rather bendy ones.

Her voice was pleasant to his ears, heavenly enough to listen to what she was actually saying, but he found the way her neck was titled more intriguing. The soft skin behind her ear was inviting enough to place small soft kisses upon as she read.

She paused in mid-word, momentarily pulling him away from his distractions. A few uncounted moments passed by and she repeated the word she had broken. As she occupied herself with the literary work, it allowed him to repeat his same sincere act, this time moving the hair off her shoulder. His feather-like lips blessed her all the way around her neck to the warm spot behind her other ear as he heard her repeat the same sentence for the third time.

Hermione fought all within her to keep on reading, showing no weakness and trying desperately not to stop. For, the moment her words paused, so did he and thus, their slow seduction game continued.

Sensing her challenge, the older wizard felt bolder and released his grip on her waist to raise his hand higher on her ribcage. He ran his slowly slid his hand up, letting his firm calloused fingers to graze her bare arm before settling down again, by her waist.

"It's imperative that you always be on your guard when entering foreign places," Hermione continued reciting from the heavy book on her lap that she was beginning to loathe.

Sirius's other restless hand began to slowly move up over her stomach, slipping beneath her shirt and feeling the soft skin of her tummy. Her muscles were tense and tight under his new caressing exploration. He heard Hermione beginning to slow her words and his gentle touch ceased like a tease, waiting for her to continue, before he would. Her heart started to beat heavier as her nerves began to flutter with anxious anticipation. She felt her throat swallow on its own, to suppress a hitch in breath and give herself away entirely. Her position on his lap didn't make her very accessible, so she leaned back further into him, straightening her stomach and back, should he decide to explore further north.

oOoOo

He held his steel resolve like a man of the cloth taking control over his own body, but still reminding himself that his intention was to make her moan and cry out his name. For now, he felt her body relax even more against him, submitting herself to the fondling.

Her mind was in a heavy lazy daze, lost in the intoxication of his mild seducing torture. The words she was forced to read, acting as the only motivation for him to continue his exploration, were something of a regret. She wanted to toss the book aside and end the literary taunting, wanting so much to just allow him to continue with no interruptions, but her mind to concentrate and her mind to stimulate operated on two different tracks.

With still only one hand positioned under her shirt, her imagination started to drift with the idea of both hands working together. She caught her breath again, as his latest squeeze forced her to bite her lip, but she was determined to finish another sentence.

oOoOo

Her young body was practically screaming out to him, and he nuzzled his nose behind the soft spot of her ear, eliciting a purr in approval. She smelled so fresh and so pure; he was capable of devouring her easily, in one night. But, he'd already restrained himself and promised he would take his time. Take his time like one would a cherished instrument, slowly practicing, working up his talents to the level they were before he was sent away. It was like he had his own time turner, because he was feeling a tight youthful body again, under his aged hands.

oOoOo

Hermione felt safe and secure as his strong arms held her from falling to the floor in an exhausted heap. His hot hand patted her gently, feeling her muscles throbbing under his touch. She rested her head back for a moment, feeling feather-like kisses on her cheek and neck, cherishing the feeling of such satisfaction.

_Satisfied? Yes. Finished? No._

With only a few moments to recuperate, she quickly found her second heated wind and eagerly rolled over in his lap. She turned over, straddling his lap from her previous sitting position and faced the gorgeous man that had sent her over the edge for the first time _in_ Grimmauld Place.

She had hungry desire in her eyes, like a tiger on the prowl for its next meal. She'd just had a very intense experience and when she looked into his eyes, she knew it was only the beginning of what they were capable of.

Hermione took no time in the business of unfastening the buttons on his shirt. He'd already had the first two undone, displaying his firm chest adorned with markings from Azkaban. She needed more of him, needed to see more, touch more, taste more. She finished with the few buttons left on his shirt and tore at it quickly; forcing a kiss that told him she meant business. With eager passion, she scraped her fingernails down his chest.

Sirius tensed his stomach muscles when he felt her youthful hands caressing his firm physique, secretly praising himself for those two hundred sit-ups he did every morning, just in such occasions like this one. The way she felt in his arms reminded him of heated moments of his younger days. The way she whispered his name over bated breath stiffened him more. And the smell of submission in the air sped up their sex drive like a steam engine with no emergency break in sight.

"Hermione, I will say that I've never seen you show so much interest in an assignment," Kingsley commented as he stood in the hallway watching the scene unfold before them.

Like a blast of cold air, Hermione immediately recognized the voice, knew it wasn't a portrait and tore her hand out of Sirius's pants faster than the speed of light. She practically threw herself off of him, landing at least two feet away on the couch, quickly adjusting herself in case any parts of her were exposed.

Sirius on the other hand didn't quite register the intrusion as quickly as she did; freezing him in the position that he might be holding an invisible woman in his arms. Dazed and unsatisfied, he looked next to him to see her fidgeting over her shirt and then to the voice who was standing next to a mildly smirking Remus.

"Kingsley! Merlin's beard, Kingsley," Hermione called out, jumping off the couch and running over to the two spectators. "Please, please, don't mention this to anyone... it's...it's..."

"Did you have to come in _now_?" Sirius voiced as he got up off the couch and zipped his pants.

Sirius moved much slower than the hopping Hermione who dashed over to the two men like she was on fire, whereas Sirius merely meandered over to greet the gentleman like he'd just roused from a nap. Kingsley extended a hand to Sirius as he got closer, amused by the night and day attitudes of the pair. Hermione, however, stood in the middle flushed and breathless, praying to the Heaven's that they really didn't see anything.

Remus chuckled as he surveyed the state of the two, saddened that he and Kingsley had interrupted. Had he been alone, he would have quietly made himself scarce and disappeared upstairs to give the two much needed privacy after working up two months of tension. Hearing Kingsley's voice break the intimacy caused Remus to cringe, for fear their cover being blown.

"Kingsley, honestly, no one can know about this...it's just...it's..." Hermione began stuttering, thinking faster than what she could vocalize.

"It's new, Kingsley, that's all," Sirius casually explained, waving a hand in the air to demonstrate the simplicity of it all.

Kingsley smiled broadly, like a black Mr. Clean with his earring gleaming with knowledgeable guilt. He couldn't help but chuckle low and deep as the otherwise prepared and balanced Hermione was caught with red on her. It had appeared he'd discovered her fond weakness for convicted bad boys.

"I get the picture," he nodded, understanding. "I came over to go through the drills they're going to set you up with tomorrow, but I can see that Hermione is going over the handbook quite meticulously."

Hermione furrowed her brow in worry, trying to open her mouth to interject in her own defense, but she was unable to speak.

"Well, we managed to get through half of the preface, mate, so don't be too hard on her," Sirius explained, giving Hermione a side wink when she glanced over at him.

"I really hate to break up your party, but tomorrow's drills aren't going to be easy and after your otherwise, hiatus, I'm concerned you won't be quite up to par, yet," Kingsley explained, cutting right to the chase, rather than tread on their moment anymore than he had.

"No, no! You're right, you take him in there and get right on it," Hermione exclaimed, practically pushing Sirius away from her and towards the kitchen. She would do anything at that point to tear the attention off of them.

Sirius glanced back over his shoulder as he was pushed away like a bothersome little brother, quite disappointed that she could turn herself off so quickly. He, on the other hand, was much older and certain parts took a bit longer to slow down after a considerable amount of stimulation.

The mood in the room had turned faster than the winds right before a storm and she was ushering all three of the men down into the kitchen, so they could get right on with the lessons for Sirius. She, on the other hand, had already decided to not be a part of it, since she was incredibly embarrassed. It wasn't like her to appear vulnerable, and surely not to a fellow Auror. As childish as it sounded, as much as she was a grown woman with needs, she strongly desired to keep that pure image to her peers.

Well, maybe not to Remus.


	19. Push Comes to Shoveand a Slap

_A note from Serade Black: Hello lovelies! I'm fresh back from Phoenix Rising in NOLA and let me tell you: HP fans are the best! _

_You'll see that the story is still trucking along, but now there's a few wrenches getting thrown in and we're getting into the meatiness of the story. This story reads the same on my LJ, so no "author's cuts" for this one. For this, you enjoy. To my new readers, welcome and stay tuned. Old readers, stop lurking and comment now and then:)_

_SB_

**"Push comes to shove, and then the slap in the face"**

Chapter 19

As the first hour after midnight approached, Kingsley was just bidding Sirius and Remus goodnight. They'd managed to consume a few too many butterbeers during Sirius's exercises and the night was forced to end by two a.m. Though they didn't get through all the hexes and defenses as Kingsley would have liked, he felt confident what Sirius had left to do the following day would rely on memory. Though several new formulas for quick potion remedies had been modified, they only hoped that Sirius's old talents would prevail.

After Remus had retired for the night after being used as a decoy, Sirius stayed up and tossed away empty bottles into the bin and tidying up the kitchen. He knew that if Hermione had gotten up for her morning toast and tea and been greeted by empty bottles and filled ashtrays, there'd be hell to pay. Though they were all mature adults, she still managed to berate them as messy five-year-olds.

He quietly went up stairs, lightly punching the old spot where his mother's portrait used to hang and turned on the landing towards his bedroom. Upon passing Hermione's room, his brother Regulus's old room, he noticed that her door was half open. He had no intention of entering her room and picking up where they left off, no that was for another day, but he did yearn to just look in on her.

He had no problem with popping his head around the door to see her under an angel white comforter with several pillows resting around and under her head. Her slumbering movements had caused the covers to pull down by her waist. She lay on her back with her left arm outstretched in her queen sized bed, sleeping quietly and soundly. Her head of golden brown poured over the pillows and her lips had a content smirk over them. She was absolutely beautiful when she slept, her bosom lifting lightly as she slumbered away.

His head was beginning to spin with euphoric feelings. He no longer saw her as a conquest, like the old Sirius might have. These days, he looked fondly at her as an icon of what he might have needed. She seemed to represent the one prize that made every muscle in him wish to be good, or behave. Hermione ceased to be the target a few weeks ago and was now purely, the arrow. She'd done her own kind of magic to bewitch him, smirking to himself and giving him one more week, two tops, and she'd be resting her head on his chest. He swore to himself he was going to do this right, because Hermione was not one to toy with. She had too much invested in his "family", the Order, and at the Ministry to rustle feathers with. It was more than just a crush on the first girl he saw after Returning, it was like someone had put glasses on him when he looked at her and he could almost kick himself for not noticing her sooner.

Of course, any sooner in their relationship and he might have been sent to Azkaban on "other" charges, unrelated to any wizard laws. The once sweet, innocent, and pure Hermione had grown up nicely and as he closed her door so she wouldn't hear him he gave his lucky fingers a good lick, tasting her remnants.

Hermione had arrived early at the Ministry the next day for work. She walked off the elevator to her floor and passed a few others that, like her, suffered from a slight bit of insomnia and found themselves arriving early to the office as well. The overnight crew was just putting things on the assignment board by the conference room, to give any and all updates of anything that had happened in the course of the wee hours in the morning.

She rounded on her normal path to her neat cubicle, next to World War I that was Ron's desk and started to unpack some folders out of her bag. On top of her stack lay the "Ministry of Magic issued Auror Handbook". Quietly scolding herself that she had been distracted by her obvious assignment the night before, she felt firm on the fact that he was just going to have to take "no" for an answer and buckle down on the reading. They didn't have long to make him a rough Auror, and they weren't going to get too much done at the pace they were taking. Regardless, it had to be done, one way or another, even if she had to spend all night with him.

Before she allowed her adolescent mind to get the better of her, she heard the familiar hooting from an elegant white owl swooping in and landing on her desk. She knew it was a bit too early for company owls or memos, but once she saw the familiar flying bird, she was elated that it was something from Harry.

Hedwig stuck her foot out for Hermione to take off the letter and waited patiently for an owl treat she was eyeballing from a canister at the corner of the desk. Once satisfied, she took perch in front of the changing windows to watch a horrific thunderstorm down in Florida.

Hermione took a seat and unfolded the letter as she read:

_Dear Hermione,_

_This season is really flying, literally. Had a minor set back and broke my arm last week in Bulgaria, but after one night of that blasted bone growing stuff I was back on my broom. Viktor says "hi". He said it's been ages since you've written him and I told him that you were really deeply involved at the Ministry. He appeared to be impressed, but he pressed on that he'd like you to write._

_I'll be seeing you in a week, so don't kill Sirius just yet. I hope Remus is acting like a fair referee when things get heated in that house._

_Yours Friend,_

_Harry_

She smiled contently as she folded up the letter from her friend and placed it in her top drawer with a few others. Though she missed the old times, she at least had Ron, who currently was dashing in through the door still buttoning his shirt like he'd just gotten out of bed. Having him around did keep it from getting dull.

"Robards been 'round, yet?" Ron asked, ducking down to his desk to avoid being seen as tardy.

She rolled her eyes at his irresponsibility, not at all surprised since his tardiness happened at least two times a week and both times he was usually still fastening the buttons somewhere on his clothes.

She opened up a dusty old book with symbols of ruins to finish up decoding a letter and answered under her breath, "No, Ronald, you're safe today. Just like you are all the other days before this one."

"Cor, then I had at least ten more minutes to sleep. Think he'd notice if I took a kip in the break room while I wake-up?" Ron tested, half joking, half serious.

She pretended not to hear, hoping that he'd take her advice at least once and try a muggle alarm clock. They really helped sometimes, especially when you had a lazy clock that was supposed to wake you in the morning, but it too, was not a morning object.

"Heads up, Hermione, incoming," Ron announced and pointed to another owl coming to visit her cubical. Still not a flying memo, it was a delivery owl that held the strings to a narrow parcel in its talons.

She managed to look up in time, just to catch the long narrow box that the owl released before taking a 180 degree turn to go back into the elevator to another floor. Apparently it had been a company used bird and it had errands to run that morning.

Hermione looked inquisitive towards the long narrow box, unsure what its contents could be. She furrowed her brow suspiciously towards the package, hesitant to open it.

"Hermione, it's safe. It's got M.O.M. sealed tape along the edges, so it's fine," Ron pointed out.

She tilted her head to see the Ministry issued tape along a corner of the box, indicating that you had to have been within the building to use said tape. She shrugged it off as some kind of company mail, probably rolls of parchment full of ancient codes that were going to take up the rest of her afternoon trying to crack any one word out of a sentence. She cut the strings loose and slid a fingernail under the cover to loosen the tape from holding it together. Hedwig hooted softly in the corner as she watched on.

Upon opening the lid of the long narrow box, Hermione's breath caught in her throat momentarily. Her insides started to melt, starting at her neck down through her body, settling in her like a peaceful drug. The corners of her mouth lifted and she ducked her head to hide her smile from Ron.

"Oh, it's mushy stuff!" Ron announced disappointed that the only thing in the box were about two dozen long-stemmed red roses.

Hermione's cheeks warmed and slightly shaking fingers lifted the small gold card that rested along the side of the box.

_Hermione - Thank You – xx – S_

"S? Oh, they're from Snape, aren't they?" Ron revolted like he'd just tasted a bogey flavored every flavor bean. "I thought you two were done," he gagged dramatically.

Hermione just stared at the note in a dreamlike state, knowing perfectly well who they were from and it wasn't Snape, "We are done." She couldn't let Ron know otherwise, so she quickly covered, "I guess he was just being nice."

Ron still over acted his display of repulsion as he fumbled around his desk to start looking like he intended on doing some work, but didn't last quick as he saw Williamson passing through and had a bet to collect from him.

Hermione's eyes couldn't be torn away from the fragile soft appearance of the petals. Each one seemed to be so unique; it was as if Sirius had picked out each flower, to ensure its perfection. She closed her eyes to imagine the rational side of all this, believing that it still wasn't right. He still had a title that she'd grown to know him by through her best friend and though he was never quite the "father figure" to her, she was scared to cross over that threshold. She couldn't even imagine what Harry would think, or Ron would think for that matter. Maybe they'd be happy? Maybe they'd never speak to her again? Maybe, neither one of them would bat an eyelash about it, hoping that the worst of things never surfaced.

Regardless, she didn't want her beautiful flowers to wilt so she quickly started to process them into a heavy bouquet so she could display them proudly on her desk for all to see. They really were too breathtaking to be kept in a box for a secret. Should anyone ask, she'd just say they were from an admirer? _Well, they were._

Right before lunch, Hermione heard the familiar whistling tune carrying through the air of her floor. Next, she heard his sing-song voice hollering over to another in her department, commenting on the Chudley Cannon's win from the night before. Her controlled pulse rate started to quicken to her dislike, forbidding herself to coo over him like a fifth year.

His whistling had briefly halted, when she heard him being stopped by Loretta Sollenboat, a witch who had been there at least a year longer than Hermione and had shown an interest in Sirius. Hermione stopped her quill from scratching on the parchment to hear Loretta shamelessly trying to direct his interest towards her own desk, so that she might show him some of the enchanted ruins she was working on.

You heard the unsteadiness in his voice like he wasn't prepared for anyone to approach him at the work place and he said, "Sorry, Loretta was it, I can't stop now. I've got a date for lunch, but thank you, maybe later."

Hermione felt her stomach shift from settled into nausea rather quickly, silently jeering Sirius for letting down that floozy witch with grace and style. Though mere acquaintances with Loretta, it didn't take long to figure her out. Unfortunately, her latest target was the notorious Sirius Black.

Hermione was just dabbing her quill into ink, so as not to appear like she was listening in, when Sirius popped over her cubical, leaning on both his elbows casually.

"Isn't that nice, someone got Granger some flowers," he feigned a rather good mocking for any ears listening in.

She tilted her head from her parchment, pretending that she had been hard at work until he broke her concentration, and gave him a calm smile. Her friendly eyes spoke for her when she lipped the words, "thank you," to him. Focused more on her than ever, he hardly blinked as he lipped back, "you're welcome".

She felt a moment of weakness, but then retaliated nicely as she still felt the need to scold him and whispered, "You're not even trying to hide this if you're announcing to the floor that you have a date!"

Sirius lifted a worried and concerned eyebrow and didn't seem to understand the necessity for her scolding, "But, I do! With Margot in H.R..."

Hermione wasn't sure if she was convinced of his performance, if he was actually telling the truth, "She's a…nice girl. She's got eight kids and smells like peanut oil!"

Sirius smiled big and bright like a toothpaste commercial, "I know. She likes me!"

The young brainy witch faltered and ducked her head to hide her smile. He managed to convince her to join him for lunch, promising not to break up the monotony of her normal routine by stopping by her coffee shop. There they picked up a couple of sandwiches and found a shady spot under a tree in a nearby park that was devoted to babies and dogs with Frisbees.

She made him promise that over their lunch together, they would go over a bit of the handbook, proving to Mr. Robards that she'd at least made further attempts if it wasn't for his A.D.D. or his attraction to the soft skin under Hermione's ear.

She sat on top of her feet, finishing the last bite of her sandwich while she went over the end of the first chapter that they skimmed over. It was basically about rules of conduct and attempting to change the way Sirius viewed things in a corporate atmosphere, was like telling a child he could never get dirty. Sirius wasn't even going to budge on how to address Ministry officials that were as high as the Minister, and he already planned on using the excuse of being the first of the Returned if ever he were to offend someone. Which was no contest – he probably would after the first week of receiving his certificate.

Hermione read to him, verifying major details and confirming everything she had said, making sure that he understood. For the most part, he gave her proper respect as a tutor and nodded or vocally announced his opinion. Regardless, they covered more in the span of forty-five minutes than what she'd expected to the night prior. She was most impressed how focused he was, that was until he made snide remarks about two passing muggle women and their rather skimpy attire neither one deserved to be wearing while holding a hot dog in their hand. Hermione cleared her throat when he continued on about the muggles and waited until his attention was back on her, for professional reasons.

As she sat tight and confined, her legs crossed and underneath her, Sirius sat back leaning against his left arm, facing Hermione while playing with a blade of grass between his fingers. His dark shoulder length hair teased his sightlines, having to often flip it out of view so that his gaze towards Hermione as she read wouldn't be interrupted. He'd kept his distance for the most part and felt that he had remained behaved long enough for their lunch break. Flowers had been sent, winks had been given and the most charming of gentlemen had dined with her on the grass that afternoon. The playful one was ready to flirt, again.

He leaned up to sit at her height, leaning against the arm closest to Hermione as she read with a casual air in her voice.

"…one must be diligent in his or her planning, careful not to reveal to on-looking muggles of the magic used in the everyday research," she went on.

His face was near hers, glancing down at the words and then back up to her lips as she repeated the type. The movement of her rose kissed lips hypnotized him as they delivered the words so perfectly, like a well-manicured art. Her chill-kissed cheeks from the cooling fall breeze accented her otherwise soft flawless skin he wanted to feel against his stubby chin. Her long heavy curls fell down her back poetically; their length compared to a Waterhouse painting's maiden awaiting her knight from a window. Sirius closed his eyes and took in her spellbinding scent of fragrant female with a hint of floral still on her from the roses he'd given her. He was close to her face, crossing over the threshold of personal space between them, absolutely entranced by her.

His favorite spot low behind her ear on her neck called out to him and he slowly leaned in closer to kiss her gently. She raised her shoulder and titled her head as she felt tickled from his gesture and briefly stopped reading.

"Sirius, we have to get through this, come on," she tried to keep him on track. He was doing so well, up until now.

The stubborn handsome man was determined to at least give her one kiss that afternoon, if she wasn't going to allow him such liberties for the moment. He managed to brush past her ear with his soft pouting lips, whispering quietly only to her.

"Where does it say in the handbook where Aurors can display affection to pretty young rookies?" he queried with a quiet slow sincere voice.

At first, she thought he was just playing for the moment, but when she got a look at the way he was poised, she knew he was being much more sincere. He leaned in to talk to only her, his dark eyes watched over her like a protector and his body language was that of someone that wanted to truly know her.

All kidding aside, this was a side of Sirius she wasn't ready for, but welcomed the change gratefully. The teasing, flirting man that followed her around Grimmauld Place like a puppy no longer sat next to her, but the true form of a passionate, challenging being that was ready to discard those childish thoughts.

She was apprehensive to kiss him, at first, for fear of some wizard strolling past and recognizing him from the pictures all over the newspapers and magazines. His sincere aura made her forget about all that. All her reservations about keeping this confidential seemed to melt away with how he was communicating with her right then, through his eyes, with limited words. He played to her like she was the only witch in the world that he wanted to impress, finally coming across like he meant everything he'd promised.

He moved in slowly, giving her the opportunity to pull away with class if she didn't feel comfortable right then. But, she surprised herself and kissed him as he so quietly asked without any words, as if it were their first time. She pressed her soft lips against his; making no further movements other than letting their union speak for itself. Just the simple gesture of affection between two people who were growing more and more fond of one another.

Sirius didn't even try and deepen the kiss, Hermione did. She parted her lips for him, hoping that he'd invite himself, but he remained gentleman-like there seated next to her. He'd got what he wanted, just a simple kiss and she granted him that much. Anything pushed further would be of her doing, and like a good boy, he'd wait.

She practically smiled into the harmless kiss as she felt his tongue pass over hers as he slipped into her mouth. The knot in her stomach tightened, having been absolutely lifted by all the sudden feelings that welled up within her over the new prospect. She felt like he was something she'd never seen before, at least through adult eyes. Nine years earlier, she'd met a different kind of man. Not a stable man mind her, but a man nonetheless. A man who had very little to live for, a man who lost it all, including himself, only to return to a life reborn. Was he a good prospect to consider? What would Severus think if she were to continue on like this, with him? She didn't care for her focus wasn't on anything else, not even the book that lay forgotten on her lap, except for getting this innocent kiss right with him.

Sirius felt satisfaction with the kiss and pulled away slowly, "Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?"

She opened her eyes slowly and whispered, "Whatever you want."

A bit of the old Sirius snuck out, "Be careful what you say, love. You're bound to get yourself into trouble."

She turned away bashfully as he left a light kiss on her cheek and ear. His subtle playfulness was enough to make her melt and all he had to do was look at her. It was getting tougher and tougher to be the polite and innocent Hermione. It was apparent in his eyes that she had a growing fire within her, and he knew how to blow on the embers to make her ignite.

To the left of where they sat, a lone Frisbee landed as the owner came by to pick it up and toss it back out. Hermione couldn't resist the jab and turned back to Sirius, who was otherwise watching the muggle pick up the Frisbee.

"You really wanted to go fetch that didn't you?" she teased, biting her lip.

Sirius wasted no time in admitting, nearly cutting off her sentence, "Yes, I did." He grinned wide for her, giving off that flirtatious playful wink for her.

They returned to the Ministry together, going their own separate ways before meeting at her desk at the end of the day. Not seeing many around, except for the few "graveyard shift" workers coming into the area, Sirius helped collect her files and books and carried them for her, like it was his normal routine. He appeared to be performing "boyfriend" duties without even being told to.

oOoOoOo

The kitchen was ablaze with various conversations flying over the dinner table at one time. An Order meeting had just concluded and Molly and the girls were setting the table for the evening's remaining party. Once they sat down and drinks had been served, the topic of spies came into discussion.

"I, for one, still don't trust the greasy git," Sirius voiced, cutting a knife into his rare steak.

The topic of Snape and his loyalties was again, a strong doubt amongst everyone. With Snape gone and already on his way back to Hogwarts for morning classes, all that remained were a few fellow Aurors, normal house guests of the Weasleys, Remus and Professor McGonagall. Hermione had no choice but to button her lip on the subject matter, having it known that she was still partial to Snape and the battles he fought of his own between the two sides.

"Well, Sirius, you'll have to understand that he's been a very strong link in the backbone of this reformed society. Without him-" Arthur began before getting cut off.

"Yes, yes, without him we'd be lacking the information from the other side," Sirius repeated mechanically, like he'd been told the same thing countless times. "I know all of this Arthur, thank you. I just never, will I ever, believe so much as one peep from his mouth as long as he's got that stain on his inner wrist. No one stops being a Death Eater!"

"Sirius, there are the rare few that can fight against it," Hermione finally spoke, after hearing her past beloved's name being thrown about like mud on the family.

"Oh yeah, name another," Sirius challenged, biting the meat off of his fork.

"Well," she hesitated, taking her seat. "We don't know of anymore that have come forward, yet."

Sirius chewed defiantly, "See, no one-"

"Your brother!" she interjected, before he gave up all hope.

Sirius froze and looked up at her with a heavy frown from across the table as everyone watched, "He's dead."

"But, you said so yourself that Regulus backed out, so that could mean he wanted to come back," she retaliated, taking a sip from her cup.

Sirius wasn't sure if he'd won or lost yet, but acknowledged her fair challenge, "My brother was an idiot and shouldn't have done it to begin with. It was all to do with my mother, that wicked bi-"

"But still, Sirius, you know I'm right," she charmed with a smile lifting from the corners of her mouth.

"My dear, you go ahead and believe that, but I personally know that my brother was an idiot that never once stood up for himself, me or anyone else. The actual thought of him backing out on one of the strongest wizards of our time is just preposterous!" Sirius chuckled, getting slightly irked with the discussion of his late brother and his loyalties.

Hermione still couldn't understand why he was so bitter about it, "Your brother might have tried to do something honorable for a change and still you speak so ill of him? You've already accused him of being guilty until the afterlife."

"Hermione, you didn't know my brother and you never will. There comes a time in a man's life when he needs to fight for himself, Harry being a grand example of it, but my brother showed no morals of the hero and would have told Voldemort where I was when I left home at sixteen!" Sirius was starting to get more and more heated over the matter, feeling the tingling of how his rows with her used to be six years earlier.

The rest of the table feared getting involved, or else the two might lash out on them as well. To see the pair arguing over old Black family matters was a bit of nostalgia most welcomed, but not encouraged, and the spectators bounced back between the two like a tennis match.

"I'm not saying I know your brother, Sirius, but you're being stubborn at seeing a possible good side of someone that was once evil," she answered.

"Like Snape?"

"Yes, just like Snape!" she confirmed, feeling it hit close to home, again.

Sirius was getting fed up, and aroused, by their argument that he felt it needed to cool down before they both said something they were going to regret, "Well, give Snape a message the next time you see him," he stood up from his chair to cool off, "tell that crooked nose git that when he crosses Voldemort and he's sent to oblivion, give my regards to Regulus!"

Sirius threw down his napkin over his plate and flew up the stairs and out of the kitchen, pushing the door open with a strong thud. It swung on its age old hinges, creaking loudly for those with wide open ears in the room. Hermione was left to her thoughts and felt how it had gotten out of hand rather quickly; she believed being partial to Snape was what drove it so heavy.

Without a second thought, Hermione stood up and tossed her napkin on the table like Sirius and ran up the stairs and out the kitchen door to apologize. Something she'd never do before, but considering where they were emotionally, it was probably a good idea to smooth things over.

She had just pressed herself through the door when she was grabbed, whirled around and pressed against the wall like in the alleyway.

With a heated whisper, "I'm sorry," Sirius sought comfort in her lips after their heated words.

Feeling the brief guilt melt away when his arms wrapped around her, she whispered the same and drank into his lips passionately. They couldn't have been hotter for each other. They'd been all riled up from their heavy row, much like the ones they used to have six year earlier, that something deep down found the entire scene very erotic. Something between them from the past began to stir their innermost secrets, brewing together a rather morbid concoction that they'd started to get aroused by a common kitchen argument. It was obvious that the chemistry they shared together was an interesting mixture they desired to discover.

Sirius's hand was coming around her neck, his thumb feeling the muscles in her chin as she lifted her face to meet him. He felt so much peace with her; he couldn't use words to express it, for no one would believe it was coming from him. Instead, he'd try all his efforts on her, experimenting with these new emotions. What he wanted most of all, was to make her believe him without having any doubts. The days they shared lately had been good, in fact they'd been nearly perfect and he wanted nothing to screw it up.

Grimmauld Place's front door during Order meetings was like a Las Vegas casino on a Saturday night, in and out. After said meetings, the house started to settle with some brief late arrivals or some momentous greetings from those that had been gone on assignment with no word if they were alive or dead. Once in awhile, new discoveries were made both in the Order and outside of it.

Severus Snape was returning through the front door, remembering to speak with Arthur on the matter of blue prints to a shop in Knockturn Alley. He had just stepped through the threshold, not noticing if anyone was in front of the door and when he lifted his eyes upon closing the front door, he froze like a deer in headlights.

There before him, twenty feet or so, unfolded the scene of his beloved in the arms of the living man he loathed the most. He'd guessed there might have been someone that had turned her head, by her lack of evening meetings. But, he'd never for once guessed it to be the one man she knew would tear him up to lose her to. As if history could repeat itself, like James to Lily, Sirius held Hermione tightly. This Returned man with no trace of his whereabouts for the last six years, a man who always had everything handed to him on a silver platter, a man with more money than all band members of the Weird Sisters put together, and he had just finished kissing Hermione like one does a long lost lover.

Sensing a pair of eyes on them, Sirius turned his head to the front door to see the funeral director-in-training standing there with an even more concrete somber look on his face, underneath angry eyebrows.

"Forget something, Snivellus?" Sirius mocked, holding Hermione close like a prize.


	20. The Gauntlet

_A note from Serade Black: Some of you are wondering what is going on and when is the "drama" going to happen? I'll have to admit that I much prefer Necessary by the Order story, but I'm still working on this one. As I've been very scatter-minded during this writing, I feel that it's suffering. Please forgive me if I've let any of you down, so far as I'm working on strengthening it. I know it's a bit off for an author to admit their mistakes, but I will finish this story out, and I am hoping that you'll all be happy with the ending! Until then, I guess I'm just so far into it, I still feel that there is quite a bit to go with it. I hope you stay on for it all:) SB_

Chapter 20

THE GAUNTLET

The house around them seemed to be settling. Mild noises came from small conversations drifting in from the kitchen. The sound of clothes running against other fabrics filled their ears as their heated session started to subside. Warm in his arms, Hermione rested her cheek against his chest to feel the calming heartbeat.

"…Snivellus?" she registered as Sirius commenting about Snape. _Severus?_

Hermione's eyes shot open and looked towards the door to see Snape frozen, exuding hate and loathing with every breath he exhaled. She immediately pulled herself away from Sirius's comforting embrace.

"Sirius, go back in the kitchen," she blurted out, fearful that any words were going to be thrown between the two.

The tension was as thick as the air before two dogs went at one another in a vicious fight. Though, the one that actually was a dog had no idea why Snape was silently infuriated. Sirius smirked at the look on Snape's face and arrogantly shrugged it off. Meanwhile, Hermione was eager to get Sirius out of the room and was instructing him to leave the two of them alone.

He protested for a few seconds, not sure why she had to deal with whatever mouthful he had to say, speak of the devil. However, her persistence was a bit overbearing and before he could slip in one more snide comment to Snape, he was shoved behind the door and out of earshot. Immediately, she whirled on her heel, just in time to see Severus storm away from the front door and into the sitting room where nosy portraits hung.

"Severus, I can explain," she stumbled out, following him closely into the next room.

She watched him pace and then stand silent and stiff like he'd been betrayed by his own family. Feeling the coldness radiate off of him like a stranger, she felt her emotions resurfacing for him, enough that she was sincerely torn over the display he had just witnessed with she and Sirius.

As she tried to explain like a guilty fourth year, he turned to face her proudly, but sternly and hurt. His upper lip remained stiff, his eyes dark and his brow furrowing. He was unsure how to begin.

Finally, breath came to him again, and he asked a simple non-Snape question, "Why him?"

Her mouth gaped and her heart started to weigh heavy; she was speechless. Never had she been the reason for anyone's pain and certainly not to anyone she once loved. Hermione was always the breakee, never the breaker. She saw absolute pain fall over Snape's features, something she was not prepared to handle, not from him. He was always her ground, her crutch, her stable being when things were nearly too tough to handle and now he appeared to falter, discovering that she was his Achilles' heel.

She couldn't meet his eyes as she shook her head, and a quiet shameful voice answered for her, "I was going to tell you."

Her answer wasn't good enough and he repeated his question sternly, "Why him, Hermione? Anyone else and I'd understand, but him? You pick the one man that I loathe more than you-know-who? Surely, you must have considered this? Was I so horrible to you that you go out and take the one man that I, regrettably, wish to die?"

The once strong girl just shook her head, letting her drooping curls hit her face, "Severus, this wasn't planned. I didn't make this happen, it just did."

"I'm out there risking my neck to make things _not_ happen. I have nothing, Hermione and what's left of anything I cared for is now shacked up with the very man whose mother I'd rather befriend," he barked, still staring sternly at her with an icy glare.

She finally lifted her eyes, shivering like he was going to punish her the way it was back at Hogwarts, "You and I were too risky, Severus. With Sirius, it's different and it wasn't planned. I never planned any of this. I only helped him back to health before he went to the Ministry and before we knew it…"

"Did you have any regard for me? Did you even think about the repercussions of this?"

"Severus, please, I think about you all the time-"

"What does Potter say? The only one true guardian he's ever known is now shagging his best friend?" Snape threw inconsiderate words to her like poison.

"Harry doesn't know yet and we're not-"

"Now, he's using you like a toy-"

"Don't say that! He's changed!"

"Don't make excuses for him! You sound like a child when you do-"

"How can you accuse me of not caring? How can you throw out such insincere words to me after all we've been through-"

"He's not good for you, Granger," he started to refer to her as a student condescendingly; "He's one whose habits never change. Mark my words, he'll hurt you."

"Stop it! I won't stand here and listen to you insult him, it's unfair!"

"Don't begin to tell me what's unfair, Miss Granger," his low voice getting more and more curt.

She was on the brink of just holding it together for him, "Severus, please understand that this was not to hurt you, none of it is."

"I'm sure he rambles on about the past, about how he nearly killed me, and heroically James came in. He's an animal, Hermione and he hasn't changed. He'll tell you things about me that are untrue and cruel. Is that what you want to hear?" Snape shouted, using a silencing charm within the room so as not to disrupt the downstairs diners.

"No! I've always defended you! Not for once have I listened to anything-"

"You're more like Lily than you know, Hermione! And just like her, I don't need your defense either!" he barked as he turned to leave the room.

"Severus, please! Don't be like this. We loved each other once!" she cried, feeling the slow warm tears running down her cheek, deeply wounded.

Snape stood at the door, his hand reaching for the brass handle and turned around to look at a disheveled Hermione, "My love is cold now, Hermione. It's apparent that we must move on."

The door shut with definite drama. Left to her thoughts, Hermione felt the walls beginning to close in on her, as the air thinned through her lungs. The settling within advised her that she'd just hurt one of the most influential people in her life – both romantically and mentally. The act of "betrayal" as he so fondly believed it to be was not as such. She was a good person, with a considerate heart. She'd once loved Snape, so there was no reason to cause him torment. It was the reality of them not being able to be together, that kept them apart. Still, a future with Snape could be there, but as long as the Dark Lord was strong with power and his followers close behind, they were not safe. A future with Sirius however, though _never_ discussed only fantasized, meant that good could come out of all this.

None of this realization mattered; as her heart weighed heavy over what her ex love must have been believed. Guilt did not settle well with her and though she tried to remain strong and collected her only desire was to run upstairs to her private retreat and have a good quiet cry. One last glance towards the cruel heavy doors confirmed his lack of return and she caught a tear on her sleeve before running up the stairs to barricade herself away from the world.

Believing that ten minutes was more than enough for the two of them to discuss anything, Sirius excused himself from the middle of dinner to seek her out and make sure all was calm again. He managed to just hear the front door close and the hard running up the old wooden stairs above his head as he stood in the foyer. No glass was broken, no spying portraits to tell him what happened and sadly, no Hermione to greet him and pick up where they had left off.

The room around him seemed so empty without her energy around him, as just moments ago it was alive with fire and passion, bringing back a true magic he held deep within. It was unfamiliar to feel it within his childhood walls, but it was apparent that like so many other things it was all changing.

Which lead him to believe, with the hard stomping of steps into her bedroom and the abrupt departure of the Potion's Pixie, many things _had_ changed the last six years.

oOoOoOo

"Morning Ron," Sirius said as he came around between the two cubicles. "Do you mind if I speak to Hermione alone, for a few minutes?"

Sirius had decided to leave Hermione alone for the rest of the evening prior. It was evident that she wished for privacy and as curious as he was, he didn't want to upset her anymore than he assumed her to be. However, he missed her in the morning when he had to report to the Ministry two hours early than she, and felt like he needed to inquire on her.

Ron excused himself, having been happy to take another break, his third one in two hours, and ventured off to explore the new muggle snack machine they'd just gotten in (or rather confiscated) on the third floor.

Once alone, Sirius occupied Ron's chair and made to spin her around in front of him so he could see her. Her bright and pretty face was concerned, weighted even, and he wanted so badly to just force her to tell him what was troubling her.

"Everything is not all right love, is it?" he began, reaching for her hand.

She appreciated his concern and the sound of his voice alone calmed her. She looked fondly upon him, seeing the depth in his eyes that wanted to learn how to be there for her when she needed him, long shaggy hair and all, but she wasn't ready to blow his mind with her past relationship, "I'd rather not talk about it yet, all right?" She raised a hand to his scruffy cheek, feeling his coarse stubble.

He watched the way she tried to push whatever was bothering her away, deftly concerned that her "funk" was due to something Snape might have done or said regarding their discovery. If that was the case, he'd severely hurt the greasy git. Until she started to talk about it, the reasoning for her lack of affection, he would wait. Wait and build her trust.

Before the end of the day, a small black owl swooped in around her cubical delivering a message. She recognized the small bird as one that resided at Hogwarts and seemed to be Snape's favorite messenger. As she took the note from his leg, she checked behind her to make sure no one was around to read over her shoulder, more specifically, Sirius wasn't around.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I feel that after a proper night's rest, I can express to you my reservations over the choice of your new beau. The private reasons I have should not have been verbalized to you, as it appears it was my tool for venting years of pent up frustration. I understand the position of our relationship, knowing full well that now is not the time. I mentioned before my concerns that you might not be there, once our missions are complete. That was from a selfish man._

_I will speak to you now, only as a colleague, quietly wishing what he has was mine, but yet again, Black has prevailed. I will not say I am torn, betrayed and hurt, but I assure you I am. I feel the time we had together was a memorable one, a special one, but it has appeared that certain things are no longer important to you._

_I cannot control the man that I am, but know that he and I will never get along, be friends or stand together past the mission. I do not give you my blessings, because I feel that good will not come out of this. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he is the one you're supposed to be with. I guess only time will tell._

_Sincerely,_

_S. Snape_

Crumbling the parchment in her hand, Hermione felt both relieved and guilty at the same time. It was confirmed that she was in the clear to move on with Sirius, but at a very heavy price – she had hurt someone. Something she had not prepared for, something she didn't intend on, something she never saw coming in a million years and there he was strolling down the hallway in her direction like John Travolta in "Saturday Night Fever" strutting for all the ladies. _What am I doing?_

"What are you doing?" Sirius repeated for her as he got closer, taking a rose out of her vase and putting it between his teeth like a mocked romantic.

A bit foggy that he had just repeated the same question she'd asked herself, but concluded he was actually asking her that very question. Shaking her head and hiding the note behind her back, she smiled guilty.

"I was just…just pinpointing the latest raids linked through Narcissa Malfoy," she truthfully told as she pointed to the displayed map of suburban London and surrounding areas with small pink dots on it. "What are you doing?"

Sirius pulled the rose out of his mouth and handed it to her, "They just bugged my brain with a language decoder and I'm still a bit foggy over it. Not good, because they're going to run me through some physical drills here soon, and I know I'm not ready for that yet."

Hermione silently admired how handsome he was when he doubted himself. Normally a very confident character, he executed simple little doubts that he could quite possibly not be a strong wizard, but she knew otherwise. He'd proven himself many times over and only doubted himself in new situations, but Sirius was never known to be afraid of a challenge. His handsome charm and sincere intense gaze was enough to forget Snape's cold words and non-blessing for awhile, that she found a sincere smile for him.

"The Gauntlet?" she confirmed with a tease in her smile.

Sirius's face fell and his eyes widened like someone silently pressed a pause button on him, "The Gauntlet? They call it the Gauntlet?"

His confidence started to waver and a slight hint of worry filled his voice when he questioned.

"If you feel like you're going to falter, just use a cloaking spell to give yourself a few more extra minutes to recuperate," she absent-mindedly suggested for him.

Sirius's eyes met hers again, smiling slowly at her hint and beginning to feel that warm feeling of relief, "See, that's why you're my girl." He gave a signature wink and ran a finger down her cheek as he walked away.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she watched him walk down the hallway to the training room admiring his entire physique. Fitted Levi jeans were cut on his legs like he was the model they made them for and a dark brown patterned corduroy jacket that he'd had for years wore on him without skipping a trend. Her mind was pathetically hypnotized by his overall aura that exuded warm animal magnetism. She'd touched him intimately with her bare hands, squeezing him and feeling every vein in his muscle tense as she stroked; his skin like a soft velvet.

"He is a dreamboat, eh Granger?" Loretta Stollenboat commented as she leaned against her cubical, watching the same man walk away in her own dream state.

Like someone had just crept into her imagination, ready to expose her darkest thoughts, Hermione froze and allowed her eyes to look around to the intruder. Catching her breath, and feeling quite silly, she remained still until she noticed Loretta seductively devouring him like a piece of dangling meat in a lion's den.

Feeling the blood rush back into her muscles again, a quick once-over and Hermione noticed her co-worker's rather low top she wore. She was never bitter, well not much, about her well-endowed fellow Auror-in-training, but her appearance deemed too risqué' for the workplace.

"He's really something to watch, isn't he?" Loretta repeated, her eyes still on the older wizard walking further down the hall before he disappeared from the witches' view.

Hermione wasn't quite sure what to respond. She needed to keep her personal life private, especially at the work place, but she couldn't help but feel that tinge of jealousy beginning to creep in again.

"Ah, yeah, he's very handsome," she blindly agreed, using a fake voice and finding her breath again.

"You're good friends with him, aren't you?"

"Yes, he's my best friend's godfather," she confirmed, hesitant to give out too much.

"Oh right, that whole thing with Harry Potter; I remember now," she pretended not to remember details. "Do you know if he's got a girlfriend?"

"I, um, wouldn't know," Hermione lied, although still unsure of the correct answer there, too.

"I've asked him out to lunch a few times, hoping to get to know him better, but he keeps turning me down," Loretta explained, shuffling her papers and beginning sardonic girl talk. "Kinda strange, 'cause he flirts all the time."

"Does he? I've not noticed," she said shyly, trying to keep her own comments to herself.

"Well, maybe not with you, Granger. You wouldn't really be his type, anyway," she replied rather smug, as if Hermione was not competition at all.

"And why wouldn't I?" Hermione snipped rather offended, if only this witch knew.

"Nothing personal, Granger, but you're not the typical type to let loose with someone like Sirius Black. Personally, if he is with someone, I'd like to meet the girl that was able to tame him," Loretta confirmed, turning away and walked back to her own cubical.

Hermione turned and sat back down at her desk, holding a smug look on her face and wishing so pathetically to tell her everything, just to prove a point. Just like at Hogwarts, she was underestimated and no one believed Vicktor Krum would ask her out. Sadly, their correspondence after Hogwarts started to dwindle down to a letter every few months, but it was obvious they weren't a good match. She was better to be a friend to a star quidditch player, than a girlfriend to one. However, her brief moment to show the other stuck-up girls that she was more than a brainy one, did feel good.

When the final minutes of Hermione's work day were coming to a close, she was just wrapping up some inner office memos that were to go out the next morning. She sealed them with her Ministry stamp and folded them to fly so they could hover up towards the ceiling and wait for the morning to come. Sirius was still in the testing center, being put through a grueling obstacle course. She wasn't sure how much longer he'd be and packed up her bag to leave alone, just in case.

She wished to check on his progress, so Hermione swung her bag over her shoulder and went down the hall to the observation deck. After going through the first door, you walked down a narrow topless walk way, much like a cat walk, to a small observatory about the size of a large kitchen. There spectators and trainers were able to observe Auror's-in-training running the magical obstacle course, two stories below them. The Gauntlet, as it was nicknamed, was about the length of a basket ball court and changed frequently to play against the Auror's weaknesses and strengths as they were challenged. They were forced to throw spells, attack with hexes, defend themselves from the strongest of bogarts and nastiest of Death Eaters while in the end, standing you up against You-Know-Who himself. Of course, this wasn't the real thing, none of it was, but it was magically prepared to be just shy of it. Many people got hurt while in the Gauntlet and three had died in the last five years while testing. It was the biggest challenge and nearly the last of the final steps from becoming an official Auror of the Ministry. To run through this, and get out alive, was nearly a sure thing that you were in.

There was a hollow, empty feeling to being just above that warehouse-like room. Some of the elements below had risen to the deck where Hermione peered over the ledge, having a moist green mist impair her vision to see the course itself.

As some creaking fans started to kick in overhead, adding a mechanical chain rattling sound, she was able to make out a pale blue misty fog down in the course, illuminating illusions of tall walls, a forest and then an open field where fake Dementors hovered and waited. She knew Sirius was down there somewhere and was curious how he was going to react, once he came face to face with the Dementors, again. He used to shudder over the mere word when he first returned from Azkaban, she wondered how his fears were now.

The sound of nothingness filled her ears, then the scraping of shoes on the gravel floor, and she heard Sirius's breath heavy and exhausted. His body broke through the pale blue mist and she watched him throw hex after hex to a blank wall, believing it to be Death Eaters, but proven wrong at the last minute when he was struck from behind. Composing himself, he managed to nail the next two bogarts hidden in sheds that sat along the corridor, each time ready and waiting for them. He cried out, yelled, and cursed, anything to get his true emotion into the spells he was casting. He appeared to be winded, but otherwise, he was extremely prompt when accepting the next challenge as he progressed with excellent scores that were displayed high at her level, but out of Sirius's view.

Feeling a slight pang in her heart, Hermione left the observation deck to refrain from doing something foolish like yell a spell out and try to help him. The Ministry frowned on cheating when being tested.

"Good night, Mr. Robards," Hermione chimed as she passed her boss's office on the way to the elevators.

"Granger, come in here!" the low bellowing voice insisted.

She obediently turned on her heel and presented herself front and center to his desk, waiting for whatever punishment or praise she was about to receive. To her surprise, it was the latter.

"Good job on recommending, Black," he announced, dabbing his quill in a nearby ink well.

Hermione furrowed her brow, not quite sure that she'd heard that right, "I'm sorry sir, what was that?"

"Good job on recommending Black to becoming an Auror," he repeated impatiently, but beaming with pride in his voice that he had one of the most well-known wizards working under him.

"Recommending him? I'm sorry, but there-"

"Kingsley told me today, that it was your idea to bring him into the department. I was trying to give him a letter of excellence and he declined it and said it was your idea the whole time," Robards explained, stern with the way he worded it all. "Good thinking and we definitely need more practical minds like you out in the field, Granger. Next week, I think your final testing is in order."

Hermione bit her lip anxiously, holding her tongue before she might burst, "Thank you sir!"

"Now, have a good weekend!" he huffed, slightly eager to get his solitude back.

She waved without saying a word and whirled around and practically ran to the elevator doors. They couldn't come fast enough, because her inner girl was squealing so loudly, she was about to lose all her professionalism and do a happy dance right then and there. But, as the ring of the bell that indicated the elevator was at her floor, she calmly stepped in, allowed the doors to close and then proceeded to bop up and down on her feet like she'd just aced the most important exam of her career.

Hermione Granger was finally going to be an Auror.


	21. The Cat Finally Catches the Mouse

_Note from Serade Black_: _Just like to JK, you're telling me the same thing: Poor Snape! Is Snape good or bad? Is he mean or nice in this story? To be honest, I'm not even a Snape-shipper, but I believe I've done him justice with this story. You'll see how it twists around… Keep reading._

_This story reads the same on my LJ, so you're not missing out!_

Chapter 21

**"The Cat Finally Catches the Mouse"**

Sirius Black had never been so happy to see number twelve Grimmauld Place before, but when he took the first few steps up the walk, allowing the disheveled building to appear before him, he sighed his appreciation that he was home.

He shrugged off his coat carefully, mindful not to use his shoulder too much. During the

vigorous testing at the Ministry, he managed to miss a _sepelio _hex and it struck him under his arm, severely cutting the skin. His shoulder had taken the brunt of the hex and though he considered himself a very gifted wizard, he was told it was one of the hardest to deflect.

Upon the sound of the front door closing, Hermione practically bounced down the stairs like a child, eager to inform Sirius of the latest news from Robards.

"Sirius! Excellent news," she called, turning on the last step and placing a hand affectionately under his arm to lean in to hug him. She felt particularly affectionate that evening.

He winced at the pain for a moment, then turned to welcome her as he was met with his favorite smile. Like a mouse to a trap, she yanked her hand back once she felt the bulky bandages and his reaction to her painful touch.

"Sirius, what happened? I'm so sorry," she pleaded, cupping her hand to her mouth with concern.

He reached out for her frightened hand to assure her that it wasn't her touch that was painful, "No, it's all right, love. I just got whacked by a nasty hex, I'll be fine."

"Can I do anything?" she offered, still afraid to touch him as if he were glass about to shatter. She'd never seen him shudder before.

He shook his head, ready to move on passed his weakness, "It's fine, don't worry about it. What's this news you were going to tell me, love?"

Her face fell from worry, to a slow content and then to a sincere confession, "I'm finally testing for Auror next week! We'll probably be getting certified at the same time, if all goes planned," she blurted.

The throbbing pain of his began to subside as he warmed with happiness for the young witch. Out of affection for her, he'd secretly detested being sworn in before her due to his status and was genuinely elated she was finally being recognized for her own talents.

He reached out for her hand and laid a kiss on it, "That's excellent, my dear. Come on, let's go out and celebrate," he suggested.

He intertwined their hands and started to reach for their coats. With other things in mind, she pulled him back away from the coat rack.

"Let's stay in," she suggested, distracting his attentions. "Remus is out for the night and I'd much rather stay home and cook something. If that's okay with you?"

The idea of a Friday night spent at a lewd muggle pub teased him, but it was the way she looked at him through a veil of fringe with those mysterious eyes. She bit her lip slightly, as if she felt she needed to convince him more to stay home with her. She squeezed his hand lightly and tilted her head coy. A smooth smile crept over his lips, intrigued with what she was quietly thinking. It truly didn't matter, because all she had to do was bat her eyes like a mischievous flirt and he was all hers.

Still a bit distraught over the Severus situation, her heart was torn over her otherwise pursuing heart. She wanted to believe what Snape had said about Sirius being a bad decision, but the small voice inside of her wanted so desperately to play with the bad boy, just once. She may have hated to admit it, but since his promise for "no games" he'd been a good one for her. He'd been true to his word, down to the small little subtle details of a wink, grin or sincere secret kiss meant just for her.

_Was this puppy love?_

"I would do anything you said, love," Sirius confirmed as if caught with an invisible lasso to her.

She tried to conceal her freshly blushed cheeks, scolding herself for the flutters in her chest. His darkening eyes perhaps alluding to more than she was suggesting, but then again, the night was young. Bracing herself, she held his hand and led him to the kitchen as his final offer was to cook for her.

oOoOo

Two hours later, still no dinner started, Hermione sat on the kitchen counter with her feet dangling over the edge. Sirius was just opening their second bottle of white wine, having devoured the first one, to go along with the dessert they skipped right to.

With the sound of the cork popping in the century old kitchen, Hermione was just sweeping a ruby red strawberry into a bowl of whipped cream. Having been her favorite sweet thing, she could not resist double dipping the fingered fruit into the fluffy treat and licking it off seductively for her audience of one.

He chuckled under his breath, having been quite entertained with his company in the kitchen the last two hours. He couldn't remember enjoying a Friday night at home so much. He filled her glass first, spilling a few drops over her wrist, in which she childishly lapped the droplets up with her tongue.

As she held the glass in her hand, strawberry in the other, she was the picturesque scene for a young debutante. Although, she may have appeared a bit classier the two hours prior before the wine had inhibited her senses.

For a split second, Sirius thought himself too old to be enjoying the evening with such a young hopeful, when he remembered he was still six years younger than his generation. He made mental excuses for himself that since he was twenty-one when he went into Azkaban, he still had a right to think like one.

As Sirius set down the bottle, his hands parted her denim clad legs so he could stand between them, making any and all excuses to kiss her. In this case, she'd missed a spot on her lips where whip cream was left behind and he moved in like the Red Barron to happily catch it for her.

After a few moments of being the sole focus of Sirius's attention, she realized that there was no way she could have possibly gotten whip cream down around her neck. As his whiskers tickled her pleasantly, she giggled shamefully and set down her glass to push him away. He tilted his head back to clear his face of his long unruly black locks to better look down at her with playful eyes. His stare was cool, content and steady as if he had something erotically devious hidden up his sleeves.

With Sirius standing at a small distance in front of her, his hands resting on her thighs gently squeezing…waiting, Hermione's fingers went to the top buttons of his shirt. She began to unfasten them, one by one, as she wrapped her legs around his waist, keeping him close.

Sirius gave her a casual grin, as if it were customary to have his shirt undone for him and closed his eyes when he felt her hands find their way to his bare skin to rub down his sparsely haired chest. The contact with her sent a surge through his body that forced him to rub his own hands harder against her thighs, suggesting his own caress.

"I've always wondered," she began, undoing all but the last two buttons on his shirt, "what these actually meant."

Slightly disappointed that she didn't unfasten his entire shirt, or strip off her own clothes for that matter, he looked down at the permanent markings of his past etched into his skin.

"More or less, they're there to pass the time," he started with a quiet voice.

Hermione traced a finger over the one in the center that looked like an Egyptian tribal marking and titled her head in thought, "There must be some meaning behind them."

Sirius sighed and watched the way her fingers delicately touched him, like he was fragile history, "I had that one done by a man who'd used the killing curse on his own family," he began solemnly. "When I tried to speak to him about it, it was awfully close to home when he discussed how he and his family didn't agree eye to eye."

Hermione's finger slowed to a stop as the reality of his words sunk into her, intrigued for him to continue. Knowing that knowledge was a bit of a turn on for Hermione, he played it to his advantage as he continued with his intense experience. The more he went on, divulging each word to her like he was reciting a sonnet, the more she seemed to be losing herself to an erotic euphoria.

"He was just shy of losing it completely," he began leaning in close to tell the story, his mouth dangerously close to hers, but not touching. "Meaning the Dementors favored him and his guilt," she could feel his light breath across her cheek as he continued, teasing her with the legends of Azkaban that only he could tell.

She hung on his every word, absolutely entranced by the low gravel sound of his voice.

"He couldn't take the arguing, the fighting, or the betrayal of his own family and so he ended their lives, committing his own to a life behind cold bars," he elaborated, watching her eye lids fall heavier and heavier. His lips just barely touched hers and her mouth fell open, waiting.

Sirius did not give in to her temptation and gave himself space, only an inch or two, and watched her mouth calling to him like water in a desert. He wanted to remain in complete control, at least at this point, during his story for the way she fed into it was like he was bewitching her with a new undiscovered magic he held. Just like before, the scent of her filled his senses and he mentally praised himself for his skilled talent of arousing her by one of his darkest memories.

He continued on, his words breathy and seductive, "I hated to admit it, but there were times when I once thought like him," he sounded like a dark killer. "I wanted to end my family's beliefs but it was something in Regulus that I'd hoped might supersede it, if I had left. Obviously, I was poorly disappointed."

The hair on the back of her neck started to raise and a chill over her bare skin settled, forcing her to practically shudder under his touch. Hermione pressed her hand against his chest, so that she might cover the tattoo. His story concerned her over his state of mind, but she knew he'd come out of that dark lonely imprisonment. She felt his heart beat under his fingers, felt his breath as he spoke and looked upon him like an icon. He was a legend in his own right, a lucky individual who escaped death twice and now lived to tell the story of real pain and betrayal. It was only when his fingers touched her sad face, did she remember that he was real, that he was pouring his heart out to her, and probably was the only time he'd spoke about it.

What made her so important? Why was someone like him, attracted to someone like her and why now, did they feel like they were the only two that mattered in the world?

Her look was sad, mournful even, and every bit of it was out of her control. She couldn't go back and heal the pain he'd gone through, she wasn't able to turn back time and not allow Harry to go through his bereavement like he did. She was powerless against the tragic events that had passed all before she existed in this world.

Her concerned appearance was one of the most romantic things he'd witnessed for him and just like that he felt the overpowering hunger to taste her lips strong and hard, as if it were his last chance.

He crushed his lips against hers, erupting a low submissive growl. She welcomed him gratefully and wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly, mindful of his injury, wishing she could take away all his pain and suffering and make him believe that he was safe, he was "home".

His blood was starting to warm and it wasn't because of the wine that flooded his system. It was the serenity that this young twenty-one year-old witch gave him, allowing him to leave his inhibitions and otherwise required gestures away and just be himself. The inner child that was forever locked up in an unforgiving cell to be forgotten, was now released and introduced to the new life he couldn't imagine having.

This girl, this witch, this once bushy-haired brunette that wrapped her legs tightly around his waist to never let him go, panted under his hold. Her hands traveled down his arms and over his shirt, dipping inside to touch his firm flesh. She traced her fingers lightly over him, enjoying the sensual contact she was giving him as she rested her hands flat against his chest.

He held a hand under her neck to twist her around to meet him, kiss for sensual deep kiss, loving her soft curls falling over his hand. His other hand kneaded her thigh roughly, restraining his insatiable urge to manhandle her harder as she gripped his shirt aggressively to meet him. Her back straightened and his hand traveled down to her waist where he gently squeezed.

The irrational side of Hermione pushed him off of her to give space to hop down off the counter. Once she had two steady feet planted on the ground and his hands were completely removed of her, she slowly back stepped to the stairs that would lead them out of the kitchen.

Quick thinking reminded her that the house was empty. Remus was far from Grimmauld Place, since the window displayed the bright full moon in the sky outside. It was so intense that not many lanterns in the house were lit, since the luminous object provided ample light, even in dark shadowed corners.

The portraits' prying eyes peeked in on them, after hearing their playful banter downstairs in the kitchen. It was only too obvious where the twitterpated ones were going as the electricity between them was enough to run the entire house.

Hermione walked backwards as Sirius grinned that side smirk all the way to the staircase. They were like moths to a flame to one another and the moment seemed to thicken the second their lips were torn apart to walk up from the kitchen. When Hermione didn't reach for him, he knew it was just she prolonging evening's event.

They were both at the bottom of the stairway, watching one another to see who was going to make the next move. Hermione lifted herself up on the first step and turned around to face him below her. She rested a hand on the banister casually, using it to steady herself if she needed to flee in a hurry should she have second thoughts to what she was suggesting. But, when he looked at her with those tempting dark eyes and pale unbuttoned chest, she knew she wasn't going to run. Not to get away from him, anyway.

He exuded that alluring aura that any woman would fall into a piddle for, but Hermione was strong. She had learned to work with it, or against it, so that he wasn't entirely in control at all times. Though he gazed up at her as if she were a mouthwatering dessert he wished to devour, showing his weakness, he still managed to keep a cool demeanor throughout their simple little game of cat and mouse.

For a moment, she faltered and forced herself to look away from his intense stare. She bit her lip, reflecting her innocence, as he played on her weakness. When he placed a hand on top of hers resting there on the banister, she pulled it away with a sly smirk. She needed to prove she was anything but easy.

With a sly step behind her, she ascended up to the second stair. Sirius's dark features changed as if a cool breeze of "game" just swept over his skin. As he raised his chin proudly, the lighting cast shadows over his face, making him appear like a rugged dark prince.

"You're quite keen on your little games, aren't you?" he whispered.

Hermione licked her lips subconsciously and replied, "No more than you, Mr. Black."

He was quiet, like he was thinking of something clever to retort. Instead, he followed her step for step as she slowly rose herself to the next stair, with him quick to follow. She said nothing more about it and slowly teased him all the way up to the landing with both of their bedrooms.

She slowly turned around, mentally signaling him to follow her. He remained at the top of the stairs and leaned against the wall to watch her. He felt that their time together at that moment was a little too good to be true and he felt like there was a catch. One last taunt before she really let him get to her.

As if she'd just met him in a pub, she used no words to get him to follow her and as she stopped at her bedroom door, she placed one hand on the door frame and glanced back at him with a quirked eyebrow. His willpower was weakening and he casually pushed himself off the wall to slowly saunter over to her, answering to her beckoning. As he approached her, his eyes waiting patiently and his lips curved in a teasing smirk, he waiting for her next move.

She turned around to face him completely, her head tilted child-like. Sirius filled in the space between them and pushed up to her, hoping to be verbally invited in. _He had his rules._

His body slinked up to hers and placed both his hands on the doorframe to lean in, not passing over her threshold. Memories of a muggle high school flashed into her brain from the movies she'd seen, as he reminded her of the most popular boy in school talking to her. His face got closer to hers as he leaned down, hoping she'd meet him in the middle for a much deserved kiss.

She lifted a hand to his scruffy chiseled jaw instead. His hair fell over his cheeks as he tilted his face into her inviting palm. Her thumb crossed over his swollen lips and she slowly dropped her hand down his chest and off of his body, taking two steps backwards into her room

Sirius remained still, hands still up on the wooden frame around her door, watching her carefully. _He had his rules._

Hermione froze. Seeing him stand there, like a model in a magazine, and it came to her. She was having that strange feeling of deja' vu'. She had that very strong feeling that she'd gone or seen this happen to them all before. The way he stood, the way he smelled, where they were…

Then it hit her…she had dreamt this very moment. A few months ago, before she and Sirius were as serious as they were now, she had experienced a very intense dream re-enacting this very moment. She remembered walking up the stairs, she remembered stopping in her room and she remembered him standing just like he was now, and saying something that melted her every muscle. It was his self discipline that had turned her on most of all. She'd silently wished for him to follow her into her bedroom, but he responded with such a simple sentence that evidently was a rule for him.

With that in mind, she wanted to know if what she'd dreamt had actually been a foreshadowing of this moment now.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, tilting her head in question.

"I cannot come into your room, unless you invite me," he said simply.

…_that was it._

His look was sincere. Ever the gentleman, much to her surprise, this threw Hermione. She found that his simple act of chastity had left her breathless enough to part her lips only, rendering her speechless.

As if her arousal had gone into overdrive, he was the sexiest man she'd ever met. Down to the way his slender tattooed fingers strummed on the door frame, waiting for her to make a move. Instead of speaking, she rushed to close the space between them and lifted herself up to him, giving him that kiss he had earned.

He could have been an animal. He could have forced himself on her with no explanation, but instead he held himself before the threshold to her bedroom. His restraint and self control was deliciously sexy and Hermione wanted nothing than to nip his lower lip with passion by her own teeth.

When she touched his lips, she reached up around his neck so that she could pull his face back to hers in order to bite that lip. He was incredibly responsive, to no surprise, and gladly swept her up in his arms tightly, to ensure the prevention of her escape.

With slow, subtle urging he managed to get her to take a few steps away from her bedroom and follow along with him down the hallway. Just a few small paces and his back was pressed up against his own door.

"Of course, then there is always my room where I have no rules," he confessed, tugging her inside.

With absolutely no reservations, Hermione was easily persuaded into falling against him and allowing herself to be pulled inside his bedroom. With a suave well-rehearsed kick, he shut the door behind them and slowly, but anxiously walked her to the bed.


	22. Point of No Return

-1_A note from Serade Black:__ This chapters is rated M on and is the reason why it's so short. For the author's original much longer cut with higher rating, see the live journal cut on the bio page on For now, sit back, relax, grab a glass of wine and imagine…all this before the new movie comes out. _

_sb_

Chapter 22

The air in the room was pleasant, fragrant, masculine. The lighting in the bedroom was faint, only two oil lamps burned on either side of the room. A tall, antique wardrobe sat to the side next to what appeared to be some kind of gothic painting, not a portrait, with purples, greens and blacks accenting the art. Towards the center of the room, a large king sized bed was made with similar colors in the linens and a large soft comforter hiding it's innermost secrets. All the furniture in the room was left behind the way Sirius kept it prior to his abrupt departure and Harry never wanted to change a thing…just in case.

Outdoor sounds of the neighborhood could be heard, adding to the mysterious night outside. The wind had started to pick up to a chilled breeze; a definite indication that fall had long settled and winter was nearly around the corner in a matter of weeks. After all, it was the end of November.

Sirius was attached to Hermione by the connection of his lips as his rushed hands finished unbuttoning his own shirt so that he could shrug it off and discard it to the floor. After feeling the cool air hit his warming skin, he assisted her with her shirt by running his hands up under the fabric and over her soft skin, lifting the bothersome clothing up over her head. He worked quick, his mind on a one track, totally in tune with hers.

Once they stood only clad in their jeans, they tried to embrace, but as soon as Hermione touched Sirius's obvious bandaging from his "miss" she flinched back concerned. It was the way he reacted downstairs that concerned her, not the fact that the five inch bandage had more tape on him than Ron's broken wand.

Her lusty pace had slowed momentarily as she tried to assess their situation, that Sirius seemed to not even notice.

"What about your injury?" she inquired, worried that she might hurt him further.

The titillating idea that they were about to get very naked numbed him to the point where he'd not felt a thing. Not even when she rubbed her hands over the sorest part hidden under the bandages when she tried to hug him, did he even bat an eyelash.

"I'll manage," he smirked, looking down at her bright concerned face. _For this, I'll suck it up._

He hated to waste any time with minor things and pulled her closer to him as he continued to walk backwards towards his bed, pleasantly distracting her with a light sucking sensation around her neck where she giggled flirtatiously.

He still couldn't believe she was actually there with him, as the entire idea of _her _still seamed so surreal. Her touch, her scent, her hands running over his bare chest - it was hard for him to grasp it all. So, when the backs of his legs hit the wood of his bed frame, he sat down before her, letting go of her waist he held so tightly to and presenting a moment for them to assess the situation. In the meantime, his eyes traveled up the length of her slim body; wearing only jeans and a bra, he drank in the seductive lock she seemed to have over him.

Not completely surrendering, but he opened himself up for her to make the next move. Without any words, his eyes darkened as they started to tread on dangerous territory and he sent out the message, "it's your call". The game was completely in her favor.

She met his telepathic message and wanted to assure him that she was there, because she wanted to be. No reservations, no force, no struggle, no pressure. She wanted him. With a swift snap behind her back, she removed her bra and dropped it to the floor.

He looked at her like he'd never seen anything like her and couldn't tear his eyes away from her. Her firm belly appeared pale and soft and his imagination was already getting the better of him as he imagined himself leaving a trail of hot moist kisses down the length of her body. Stiffening his self-control, he kept his hands to himself and fought the inner battle to just throw her on the bed.

She sensed his restriction and grinned mischievously. Her fingers played with the fly of her jeans and slowly, painfully, slid it down. Like an exotic dancer, she managed to take off her pants with such a sexy flair, it was if she'd practiced every night to take them off right for this moment. He remained still, his eyes the only thing moving.

She stood clad in only a pair of dark blue panties with lace around the edges which gave her a youthful, yet seductress appeal to her. The dim lighting in his room accented her every curve with shadows, making her skin look soft and silky. Either way, Sirius was ready to devour her if she didn't make a move soon.

Sensing his eagerness, she crawled onto his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. He in turn did the same and his slow hands smoothed over her waist, hugging her close to him. The animal inside of him couldn't wait to feel her against him, their first flesh on flesh contact. Her young bosom pressed tight, he kissed her deeply, quietly thanking the Gods that she was there with him after years of loneliness and pain.

_You saved me once, Hermione…_

Sirius's hands ran all over her bare body, feeling the smooth skin under calloused fingers. Her lips tasted sweet from the strawberries she was eating, but it was the erotic scent she exuded that put his senses into over drive. He was going to make her yell his name, again.

Even though feeling her nearly naked against Sirius was heavenly and even though her wanted nothing more than to keep him close like he was, Hermione still pushed him away. As if tearing herself away from him was utter torture, she made up for it by sucking on the bottom of his lip and raking her nails lightly against his well-defined chest to show him she was just as torn, but she was on a mission.

Hermione slowly crawled off his lap and onto the bed behind him. He watched her as she moved meticulously like a cat and then rolled over on her back with one leg bent, as if displaying what she had to offer. Her milky white thigh looked absolutely delectable with a perfectly cleft ass to compliment her stems.

With fire in his eyes, she mentally called to him like a sex slave waiting to be dominated by whatever he planned to give her. They had reached the point of no return and there was no stopping the road they were traveling.

O0o0o0o0o0o

He carefully lowered her by the hips, setting her tenderly back on the bed like a limp rag doll and slid himself out to collapse next to her to bask in the glow. Both of them laid in silence as they caught their breath like a marathon runner after a race. Their naked bodies started to cool as the sweat beads remaining on their skin gave them a chill. Sirius spooned Hermione, hugging an arm over her stomach to pull her close and his face resting by her ear in her tendrils. The sound of her calming pant was music to his ears as he felt satisfied and accomplished that both had been sated.

A light murmur left her lips as she turned to press her forehead against his, "I was so horny," she lightly giggled.

Sirius kept his eyes shut, but knew she was looking at him, "Try being locked up for twelve years."

She was indeed watching him, every bit of him. The way his lips moved, the way his eye lashes fluttered, the whiskers on his chin…she was absolutely mesmerized by him. She was even more smitten with him with the way he held her so close after their hard shagging; it was something she wasn't too familiar with. Her last love had no interest in after love making coddling and this new improvement was definitely something nice.

She lifted a finger to his cheek and slid it down his chin, "I'm sorry you had to endure that," she consoled.

Sirius's eyes opened upon her sincere words, as if kindness from a woman had been so foreign to him, he wondered if it hadn't been a sign. Her eyes looked intently on him, her lips still swollen from kissing him, her body slightly shivering and he wondered.

"I had no choice," he whispered, his eyes looking over her soft skin and resting curls.

His solitude of torture left a pang in her heart to imagine such a place. Even worse, she didn't want to believe that this man that held her had to endure such a wronged fate. It never settled well in her and now as he geld her close, possessively even, she wished she could do something to make up for those years lost.


	23. The Charmed Rose

-1_A note from Serade Black:__ Though the end is upon us (I speak, of course of Deathly Hallows, never have I ever not planned this to be AU). There are no spoilers in this chapter, however there is one tidbit of information, that "might" be mentioned in DH - I won't say either way - but, it's not a giveaway not to finish reading this. I carry this story on, finally getting to some more meaty stuff in the plot and I look forward to winding it around to the end (though, I'm quite a bit off from the end for this one) as I've another story in mind to write. _

_I have to also mention that this chapter is rated PG13 (M), and the original Author's Cut is on my LiveJournal community, the link listed in my bio. Be sure to read and review, as you know authors feed on those!_

Chapter 23 - The Charmed Rose

The portraits of number twelve Grimmauld Place were diligently making their rounds to visit friends and family. They passed from room to room, avoiding the entry way into the attic where "the bitch" currently slumbered under black tattered velvet curtains.

The latest gossip amongst the house were of the young muggleborn witch inhabitant and the Noble House of Black's shunned son. Of course, the portraits referred to them by their real names in everyday conversation, but using titles with gossip was so much better for a juicy story. They all concluded that though they hardly discussed affairs with the inhabitants, knowing them to be friends since they were either put on the walls or allowed to stay on the walls, some couldn't help but fuel the fire as they still remembered the day Sirius Black walked and left his family.

No portrait hung in the former master's suite, so they couldn't go about spying like voyeurs to return with a confirmation. The last thing Pollux Black remembered was the sight of the two slinking up the staircase with smut on their minds by the look of it. From the kitchen activity, she'd lured him up the stairs like she'd bewitched him he explained to anyone that would listen.

Up the stairs to the last door on the second landing, the etching of "Sirius" was still visible on the metal name plate. Behind the thick oak closure, a large luxurious room of antique furniture and bed linens harbored the slumbering conspirators. The morning rays fought through tiny crevices of dark purple velvet curtains that hid the sunlight in the attempt to wash the room with bright color.

Deep within the confines of a heavy feather down comforter, Sirius began to stir. His body felt tired, worked out and as he breathed in the fragrant female scent on his pillow, he slowly opened his eyes to the slumbering brunette that spooned him close.

Like an angel of mercy he so longed prayed for in his Azkaban days, she shared the space between them like they were always meant to. Her hand draped over his chest as he lay on his back and she right next to him on her side. The slipping covers fell right below her shoulder, dipping low enough he could see the cleavage of her hidden breast. Her hair was still slightly damp from the bath they shared together after their sexual discovery, cleansing each other in a royal ceramic tub with sterling claw feet.

He barely moved, just adjusted himself to watch her. He studied how she breathed, how she slept, and how she woke up. His slight stirring had disrupted her sleep pattern and bright brown eyes slowly opened up to his. At first, she adjusted to the reminder of the company, having woken up alone the last few months, a bed companion was something somewhat new. Once she settled on him, her mouth curved into a sweet bashful grin that she tried to hide by rubbing up against the pillow, taking her draped arm back.

"I half expected to wake up and you not be here," Sirius whispered in his first voice of the morning.

Her bright eyes answered for her, "Why is that?"

"Because, I thought I was having a dream," he flirted, leaning over to kiss her. "I feel like taking a Time Turner and going back eight years and telling myself, 'look out for that one mate, she's a lively one but it'll be worth it!'"

She rolled over on her back as she welcomed his weight on her, feeling his arms wrap underneath her tightly in a strong hug as he kissed her intimately for the first time that morning. His connection with her was ever so intense and it was like replaying her most favorite moments with him all over again.

"A Time Turner can work wonders, can't it?" she answered, loving the way his whiskers scratched her skin as he left kisses around her ear.

"You don't still have it, do you?" he managed to asked, changing the subject. As if they could have a normal conversation during this.

She pushed herself to sit up and straddle him, "What, the Time Turner? No, I gave it back to the school."

"Pity," he growled.

"Why is that?" she asked, watching him try to concentrate on speaking normally while she was in power.

"I would have gone back and given it to my younger self to bring him here, now, so that you could have someone your own age to play with," he suggested, pressing his head back hard against the pillow and stifling a painful grunt.

Very calmly she shook her head, "Oh no," she said with a firm tone. "I much prefer this Sirius to that Sirius," she confirmed. The voice of the seductress had spoken and she leaned up to viciously nip his lower lip to make a point.

He gave her a half smirk through drunken eyes, "And why is that?"

She leaned up on her wrists, pulling him out of her body and hovering over him. Her wavy tendrils framed her face like hidden curtains as she spoke down to him, "Because, that Sirius is just a child," she lightly kissed his lips. He was absolutely captivated by her. "This Sirius is older," she kissed the tattoo on his neck, "wiser," she kissed various spots on his chest, "and much more worldly."

She bit her lower, "I much prefer you, now."

Sirius's lips slowly curved mischievously, having felt like he just discovered a slightly darker side of his witch…and he liked it, "You know, you're more mischievous than you let on, Miss Granger."

0o0o0

As their breathing subsided, Sirius kissed the top of her head to show his tenderness was true and his sexual violence only temporary and driven. The passion in him had erupted darkly and since they'd only spent one night together, he wanted her to know it was only passion.

Not too much longer lounging around in tranquil peace, Sirius kissed the top of her head one more time and shifted under her to get out of bed. Allowing him to move, she showed no interest in vacating their spot and smiled when she watched his smooth baby-ass walk around the bedroom with no shame, practically strutting. He disappeared into the bathroom where she could hear him washing up and then he emerged again and went to his dresser.

He flashed her a casual wink and pulled on a pair of boxers before going over to the wardrobe. He pulled out a pair of grey pants, a charcoal colored long-sleeved shirt, waistcoat and a corduroy blazer with ripped seams.

"Going down the street for some breakfast for us?" Hermione sung, closing her eyes and awaiting his confirmation, stretching out like a lethargic cat under the covers.

"I wish, love. I, unlike you, still have to go into work today," he regretfully stated while pulling on his shirt.

A sudden rush of disappointment filled her chest and she sat up in bed, ignoring her modesty, "What? Oh, that's right."

Sirius was just finishing the buttons on his shirt as he nodded and ran a hand through his unkempt hair he had no intention of brushing a comb through, as he quite liked that "just shagged" appearance.

"Then, maybe I'll go into work as well. I can always get ahead of -" she started to think aloud.

Sirius rushed to the bed and placed two hands around her soft rosed cheeks and quickly kissed her as if to change her mind, "No, don't you dare," he moved a strand of hair away from her face. Her eyes slowly opened to meet his, as if he'd enchanted her into a sleeping spell. "You've done enough, this week. You need to stay home and study for your test next week," he couldn't resist giving her a wink and lowering his voice to a seductive volume, "It's not like you're going to get much time when I get home."

With that, Hermione felt compelled to do whatever he said and gave him a half grin.

Sirius smiled once he'd believed he'd made her see his reasoning. He really did want her to prepare for her training in the Gauntlet next week, because he'd already planned on being selfish and keeping her to himself, but he didn't want her to suffer for it.

Finishing his ensemble, he pulled on his vintage jacket to quickly get going. He dreaded going into the Ministry that gloomy Saturday morning for more reasons now than ever. He was fighting the inner battle to just shrug off the entire day to be with her, but he felt he finally needed to take responsibility for something for a change. Besides, she'd be terribly turned off, if he didn't take advantage of the opportunity he'd been given.

"Meet me for dinner tonight at the Charmed Rose about seven, all right?" he said while messing with his hair in the mirror by the bedroom door.

Hermione rose her eyebrows at such a casual offer, "The Charmed Rose? Tonight? You really think you're going to be able to pull a table at such short notice?" she challenged.

Sirius turned around at the pale young beauty tangled up in his sheets like an Egyptian goddess awaiting his company. _I have to go into the Ministry! I HAVE to go into the Ministry,_ "It's about time I took advantage of my name," he winked.

"You know you really shouldn't abuse your status. Harry doesn't," she was quick to quirk.

Sirius smirked and moved in slowly for a good-bye kiss whispering, "Harry is a lot more humble than I am."

He tasted her lips greedily, holding onto the back of her neck and cherishing the softness of her hair over his hand. He forced himself to pull away before he convinced himself to stay confined all day with a woman who had made him feel more alive than he had in years. He was dashing out the door, taking the stairs two by two and holding a hand out to his eager grandfather's portrait who bit his tongue before he burst with a lecture.

With the hollow sound of the front door slamming closed, Hermione fell back into the soft alluring confines of the sensual sheets smelling of sex and closed her eyes to pass the morning away before cracking open her own books to study. A small smile crept over her lips as she drifted away, thinking that she had satisfied a curiosity that she'd held onto for six years.

By noon, Hermione had gathered enough focus to buckle down and start on the first of seventeen books she'd pulled to assist her study for "the Gauntlet" that following week. Though her mind was floating with fluttering thoughts of what the previous night's activities involved, she was still able to concentrate with help of temporarily blocking Sirius Black and all the associations that came with him, away from her train of thought.

"You're a good girl. I do like you, Hermione," an old voice proclaimed.

Hermione raised her eyes from behind a dusty book of dark spells she was sure was going to attack her while running the Gauntlet and searched the room for the voice. Her eyes settled on two dark eyes with grey bushy eyebrows sitting in an empty field.

"I'm glad, Pollux. What brought this up?" Hermione answered, taking the bait.

"The obvious attraction from my grandson. I've never actually known a Black to show admiration for a muggleborn. Heard of them, yes, but never met one. I guess, if I had to approve, I would. But, I'm dead, so what does my opinion mean?" he explained theoretically.

Hermione cracked a smile and nodded her head, "No, we care. Otherwise, we wouldn't have left your portrait up."

Pollux Black gave an unsettling shiver, "Otherwise, you'd put me up in the attic with that…that witch!" He spoke of Sirius's mother like an enemy.

The afternoon dragged on, the hour of seven seeming to never come around. Hermione had already planned on what she was wearing that night and felt no rush in getting ready at only four o'clock in the afternoon. Instead, she grabbed her duster and some muggle cleaning products and gave the house a quick turn over, as Harry was arriving that week.

Finally, it was time to leave and she could hardly wait to get there. She'd since released the temporary blockage of her thoughts of Sirius to get her excited while she got dressed, having had to zap herself out of a fantasy or two, when she realized she was lining her lips with her black eyeliner. Never one to wear a lot of make-up, if any at all, she was particularly nervous for looking like a fool and embarrassing herself.

The cold wind chilled Hermione as she apparated into Hogsemeade and hurried down the lane that the Charmed Rose resided. Small shops lined the walk advertising their spirited goods and charmed salts. A man in dark blue robes tilted his head gentlemanly as she passed by, tugging her pea coat tighter around her. Her tan calves length strapless dressed seemed a silly idea as her nose bit the chill, but it was something new she'd purchased a bit ago and felt it fitting for a dinner.

The host opened the large glass door for her when she'd met the end of the winding sidewalk that lead up to the small exclusive restaurant. An older witch wearing a black velvet gown and small pill box hat met her with a smile and assisted the wizard host with reservations as private couples came in for dinner. The friendly wizard that held the door opened leaned over the ancient podium and asked for her name, should she have made reservations.

Hermione smiled as the man's name was Rogerwink and quietly replied, "I'm meeting Sirius Black here, for dinner."

Rogerwink caught her smile and nodded assuring that he was well aware of that reservation. In the meantime, he helped Hermione take her coat off and hung it up in a large nearby wardrobe. Once complimenting how pretty she looked, he offered her his arm and led her to the table where her dinner companion already sat.

Behind the podium, they disappeared down invisible steps that led them through a tunnel made of water. The current circulated around them enchanted, leaving them warm and dry from the elements. Several small alcoves, like mini caves, lined the pathway. Each private area had a stone table in the middle and a small curved marble bench with velvet cushions. It was perfect for private couples or small dinner parties that wished to remain anonymous or just romantic for the evening. Each separate dining area had a levitating candelabra above them, illuminating very low light creating a very intimate atmosphere.

The host that led Hermione down the walk like a princess on display cleared his throat to get Sirius's attention once they approached one of the small alcoves. Sirius heard the host and tilted his head up, flipping his hair out of his eyes.

He took one second to take her in before standing up to greet her. It was as if all the surrounding sounds had drained from the room and his vision closed its peripherals. His eyes fell to her bare neck and smooth shoulders and her skin glistened under the torch lights like satin. He felt a lump in his throat, taking in the beautiful young girl that had met him for dinner. Though she'd have no excuse, a small part of his conscience wondered if she would have reconsidered and regretted being with him the night before. As he could see by the shining twinkle in her eye and the satisfied grin over her lips, she wanted to be.

Both Hermione and Sirius thanked the host and Sirius couldn't help but lean over and kiss those lips he'd thought about all day long. Not a deep one, just an elongated closed mouth kiss that seemed appropriate, since they were still standing where several could see them from their own tables. He didn't need to tell her she looked beautiful, she could just tell he meant it by the wink he gave her and the second once-over. It appeared that her dress of choice, the tan strapless one that left the cleavage to the imagination as it hugged her bosoms, was a success with him.

"I will have you know that I nearly had my eyebrows singed off because of you," Sirius said as they sat down together, moving close enough along the bench to be touching elbows as they read the menu.

Hermione glanced over, "Because of me? How so?"

Sirius smirked as he started to answer, carefully choosing his words, "I was finishing up the last task of the Gauntlet, by the way, you neglected to advise me that there was a second part."

Hermione feigned accusation and sweetly answered as she kept her eyes on the menu, "Well, I couldn't tell you everything."

Sirius continued, "Right, well, I was nearly done when the vision of you meeting me here totally broke my concentration."

"Why that?"

"You were naked," he casually answered, curving his lip as he browsed the wine list.

Hermione smiled as she leaned over his arm to read the list with him. The waiter came over and took their dinner orders, served their wine and extinguished a candle as he left them.

"What was that for?" Hermione asked as she looked up at the candelabra, now one lit candle short.

"Well, before each glass of wine they lower your lighting so the romance is on, so to say. After several glasses of wine, your candles are nearly all out and couples are free to do… well, whatever they so wish. Mind you, it is still a public place so be weary with your intentions, Miss Granger," Sirius explained with a voice dripping suggestively low.

Hermione nodded, unmoved, "I see. So, how many times have you been here, then?" Her eyebrow rose curious.

Sirius held no guilt, "Just once. With James and Lily, actually. This is where he proposed to her and he wanted Remus, Peter and I here to witness it. Either that, or to put her on the spot to make her say 'yes'. He made a great scene of it, actually…rose in the mouth and all. I think she said 'yes' out of pity, more than anything," he smiled as he told the story fondly.

Hermione felt him reach for her hand under the table as he told his story of his best friend and how he'd probably never get over the pain of losing him. He didn't need to explain, but she took his silence as a weak moment.

"And what of the candles, then?" she whispered.

"We were a bit nervous about that one, so Remus and I were well-prepared with several boxes of matches to save ourselves with. Save Merlin if James got confused and grabbled my thigh instead of Lily's. I'd have hexed him!" he teased.

The first coarse came and as their glasses were refilled, another candle was extinguished. Hermione was fascinated by how many people were in there that she'd recognized from the Ministry, the Daily Prophet, and she believed she may have recognized the drummer from The Weird Sisters being shown a table with two very tarty witches.

"I'm amazed that you got a table here, Sirius," she said, pushing her salad plate away and lifting her wine glass to her lips.

"See, there you go doubting my abilities. I told you that Harry was a lot more humble than I was," he charmed, a glimmer in his eye that shadowed a slight hint of arrogance.

"Yes, well, you shouldn't use it to your advantage. This was a one time deal," she attempted to make right.

Sirius couldn't help but grin at her. She forever tried to be the righteous cheerleader and it was always going to be a waste of breath on him, but he humored her anyway.

"Hermione, you know I've got a long history of resentment towards the Ministry, or have you forgotten an entire time when Voldemort infiltrated Death Eaters through our leaders?"

"I haven't forgotten anything, Sirius. Infact, you weren't even there for a time when muggleborns had to register with the Ministry and prove their lineage," she was quick to explain.

Sirius was taken aback for a moment. He hadn't known about the muggleborn registry. It must have happened while he was behind the Veil, "You couldn't prove yourself, could you? What did you do?"

"I was hiding with Harry at the time. He kept me safe, as did Ron," she said a bit somberly. That whole experience was not something she wished to repeat, "They dropped the name 'mud blood' in normal conversations all over the place and I couldn't do anything."

Some things could have been done. She was hidden, her best friends had helped her so, as did the Weasleys, but later the law came out that only by being married to a pureblood did it strengthen her protection, but it never came down to that. _Would Sirius have protected me? Had the marriage law passed, would Sirius have done the noble thing for me?_

Sirius was silent as he just observed her, concentrating on what she could possibly be thinking, "I would have been there with Harry and Ron," he began. Hermione looked up at him, sitting there contemplating the past he missed, "I would have protected you. I would have even married you to keep you safe."

Hermione looked at him deeper, now. She hadn't mentioned the marriage law verbally, but he'd offered to perform the act regardless. She felt a small tinge in her stomach, not of the gesture he was calling to, but of the act he commented on exactly when she was thinking it. Was he reading her mind?

"Sirius, are you using _legimens_?" she quietly asked, still looking up at him with concerned eyes. She'd had problems with Snape on this issue and she hoped to Merlin that he wasn't invading her thoughts, otherwise nothing she thought would be private.

His comment didn't even phase her when he'd declared what he would have done, back then. She was his friend at the time and a future member of the Order. He, like his godson, would have done the noble thing and protect her.

He shook his head at her question, admiring how pretty she was when she looked curious.

"No, I've never had an interest," he took a larger sip from his wine. "I'll leave that to the weak minded wizards to master it. You can always pick that kind out, too. They're the ones with no social life…because, they've been reading everyone's mind. Nothing to look forward to in discovering other people, like the opposite sex. Like Snape for example," he grinned at his little joke, "he's celibate. Probably a unick, even."

Hermione bowed her head away. She hated to hear ill thoughts of Snape, but she had to expect it coming from Sirius. At least for the time being, the subject had changed and they weren't going to continue on with the Ministry history.

Sirius lifted his hand to her chin and raised it to look at him, "I still would have protected you."

There wasn't more for her to say, as her thoughts were still on his comments regarding Snape and then his promise to protect. It was obvious that he respected her as strongly any other Order member, willing to die for them or make a horrific sacrifice. His gesture, however, did not go unappreciated.

Their dinner came and went and as their dessert melted before them forgotten, a lone candle gave them the confidence to execute their day's thoughts of one another.

Eager to get home, or just walk it off for a bit, Sirius tried to turn himself off as he told a story about the island he and Buckbeak escaped to the night Hermione and Harry freed them with the time turner eight years earlier.

"…and so I said, 'look mister, I'm not going to put a pineapple on my head for any reason'!" Sirius finished and walked her to the front of the restaurant to retrieve their coats.

They waited in the foyer of the restaurant, Sirius holding both of her hands in his and leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.

"A picture perfect night out!" the annoying curling voice announced behind the smoke of a camera.

Immediately, Hermione and Sirius turned towards the distraction that interrupted the humorous moment. Wearing an aqua blue silk pants suit, Rita Skeeter stood approvingly with one maniacal eyebrow. Her lips pursed as she recited a couple of story titles when she viewed the two intimate unmatched couple in their privacy.

The obnoxious reporter had received a tip that Sirius was out and about on the town, particularly at a well-known hard-to-get-a-table at restaurant in Hogsemeade. Upon receiving the news from her source, she apprehended her photographer and dashed out to snap a picture of him "living it up".

Sirius scowled, sorely disappointed that their private evening had been cut short. He turned and grabbed the coat from the host and tossed it over Hermione's shoulders so they could make a quicker exit. Sirius held Hermione close to him and they pushed on passed the photographer, who stood there unamused and passive.

"If you don't mind Rita, we're off and we'd appreciate it if you'd not follow us," Sirius said, coddling Hermione away from the outstretched talons that were neatly manicured.

"You have a very familiar face, young lady. Have I dished something on you before?" Rita inquired, following close on their heels down the sidewalk as the two walked away from any line of questioning.

Sirius kept one hand in his pocket wrapped around his wand. Sensing his defense, Hermione persuaded him otherwise to hold her hand, rather to prepare for a duel with a bothersome reporter. Though they tried to act casual, enjoying window shopping through the ice flurries in the air, the echoing of Rita's heels indicated her narrow approach.

Sirius stopped and turned to step back up to Rita privately, "If you want to talk to me, then do it when I'm not out with my lady. Send me an owl if you want to know any truths before you make them up." He returned to Hermione's side and gently squeezed her hand, displaying his restraint.

"Tell me Sirius," she pressed on, her photographer trying to keep up, "is this the romance you spoke of last time, or is she one of several? If it is, I'd like to just get her name correctly spelled."

"Sirius, don't!" Hermione begged, holding onto his arm tightly incase he were to fly off the handle.

At first, he was annoyed, but now as Rita was practically tapping them on the shoulder to continue with her discovery, he wanted nothing more than to just disappear. His temper got the better of him and he spun around again, pulling against Hermione who tightened her grip on his arm.

"Rita, I'm warning you. Print one incorrect word and you'll never get another piece from me or Harry. We'll populate the Quibbler for the rest of your career," he calmly threatened, believing that Rita was more turned on by his abruptness rather than intimidation.

She stood her guard and smirked, aroused with her own wink, "Whatever you say, Mr. Black."

Sirius returned next to Hermione, picking up her hand and raising it to his lips as he walked, "Let's enjoy the rest of our young evening, shall we?"

Not even glancing back to Rita, she grinned as Sirius's whiskers tickled the back of her hand. By now, she was used to being around Daily Prophet "babies", since her best friend was a favorite of the publication. She felt a different kind of stirring while being with Sirius that evening and for a fleeting moment, she wondered if she was ever going to have a normal wizarding life?


	24. A Gryffindor Fantasy

-1_A note from Serade Black:__ Alas, personal stuff in my life has occupied me and I've not been able to update and have it beta'd any sooner. However, I am written ahead, so perhaps after some tweaking, the next chapter won't take so long._

_This chapter is rated mature, but only PG13. To read the original cut, you can find the lastest chapter on my live journal, where the link is listed on my bio page (first page to the inventory of stories)._

_This chapter took so long to write, finish, have beta' d that, to be honest, is not one of my favorites and is purely there for fluff. For those wondering where this is going, I assure you I am not abandoning this and soon Sirius and Snape will have their confrontation. For now, we needed to still work on the groundwork so you know Hermione is no longer just a conquest in Sirius's eyes. SB_

Chapter 24 - PG13

"A Gryffindor Fantasy"

"Tea, love?" Sirius asked as he closed the front door to Grimmauld Place, stepping into the encompassing warmth.

They'd just come in out of the brisk cold, as Father fall was departing them rapidly that early December. The leaves had already turned to brittle pieces that fell away the second you touched them and the nights got darker and gloomier much earlier. Pretty soon, the roads and walks would be slick and wet, and snow flurries would be expected to tap against windows.

Shaking off the slight bite of chill, they shrugged off their coats with an eager gesture to quickly get cozy in the warm house. Like a gentleman, Sirius helped Hermione with hers before losing all manners and coming in for an explicit kiss.

Their lips found each other like a secret rendezvous, imagining them to be the only ones in the universe that felt the deafening throbs of a youthful beating heart pressed against the bosom of a twenty-something young lady. The walls had eyes as they peered upon the scandal that was ancient years old. The modern time relationship would deem them heretics to the Noble House of Black as they frantically drank into the aura of new lust.

Mechanically, Hermione wrapped her arms around Sirius's neck, absolutely elated with his sheer sense of spontaneity. Something her last few beaus never considered and something Hermione found strangely sexy. Many of his small gestures proved to be quite magnanimous to what she was used to and his reward was often sought out in the simplest of places.

Maybe it was the way he smelled. Maybe it was the way his hair fell to the bottom of his chin and sometimes hindered his view. Maybe it was the way he'd run his calloused hand around the back of her neck, teasing with the erotic sensation that he could strangle her at anytime, but would never. His aura was thick with lust and his growl was subtle, but noticeable, and he came across as nothing more than someone completely hypnotized with dreams of nudity and perspiration.

He pulled away momentarily to ask again, "So, tea?"

He was quick to only allow her a few seconds of freedom before swooping back in like an owl on the hunt for a small barn mouse and occupying her mouth once again. She smiled against his firm kiss, intoxicating herself with his charm.

His hands roamed over her back, feeling the soft fabric of her dress lay obediently against her body. His fingers teased her arms as he felt the soft bare skin under his touch and fought against his inner animal not to pull down her strapless dress and suckle on her youthful breasts right there in the foyer.

She managed to murmur a "yes" and he pulled away abruptly as if there was nothing else he could focus on, but to get that tea ready. His sudden departure was unexpected as he slipped out of her arms as easily as if he had apparated to the kitchen door. His smell was still all over her body like after being in a muggle perfume shop, that it hypnotized her to watch him until he was completely out of sight.

When he got to the door, he glanced over his shoulder to see her standing in the same spot with rose-blushed cheeks. Her lips pursed mischievously and she slowly turned around to start up the stairs, as if teasing him to hurry up with that tea. With a slight bow of her chin, her hair fell forward to hide half her face, as serious brown eyes peered from beneath like a teasing vixen. As innocent as she feigned to be, the young witch had other plans for them.

Sirius felt his heart leap with the heavy anticipation of another good night and started a pleasant whistle as he pressed on into the kitchen with the spirits of a man who had everything going for him at that very moment.

Remus was slowly busying himself with the same evening nightcap while clutching a tattered old book under his arm. He turned around from the old kettle that sat on the stovetop to see his best friend practically floating down into the kitchen. With a friendly smirk, he inquired why the good mood at such a late hour.

"Remus, my friend, the winds have finally turned in my favor," Sirius practically sung, taking down two tea cups from a sloping cupboard.

Sirius took out his wand and charmed the kettle to float over towards him and with a slight flick of his wrist, the hot steaming contents poured into the two cups on saucers. Remus pushed the jar of tea bags closer to him, watching him carefully select Hermione's favorite kind of tea.

"She likes two sugars," Remus suggested and resumed to stirring his own cup.

Sirius paused and looked over at his friend. There was no need to explain, Remus was a smart man.

"Are you angry?" Sirius asked, spooning the second scoop of sugar and stirring the contents of the steaming cup.

Remus quietly chuckled and shook his head lightly, "Not at all, my friend. Not at all. Just…be weary. She is young."

"Yes, and pretty, and intelligent, and way beyond her years…" Sirius finished for him, as if he needed to express more of what he saw in her.

"And you're still coming around," Remus nodded agreeing with him.

"Remus, I'm fine. I feel like my old self, again," he clarified.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Remus added, turning around and settling down in an old chair at the head of the kitchen table.

"Yes well," Sirius began, holding both tea cups in his hands as he turned to leave the room, "I'll be sure to put a silencing spell over my bedroom so we don't disturb you."

Remus just smirked and shook his head as he heard him exit, leaving him to his solitude. _Some things never change, my friend._

Sirius was careful to walk up the stairs while balancing two cups of tea without jinxing them with his wand. He turned the corner at the top of the banister and as he passed Hermione's room, he saw her door was ajar, but dark inside. His own door ahead of him however, seemed to have just a little light peeking out from the crack that it was opened.

He pushed the door open with the light force of his knee, as he refused to set down the two mugs to retrieve his wand and open the door like a wizard. Inside, he found a few lanterns ignited around the walls of his bedroom, draping the room with a warm sensual flamelight that you could feel the calm tranquil aura in the air.

But, nothing could prepare him for the sight that sat on his bed with her legs curled underneath donned in white knee socks. Her down over her shoulders, delicately curled and practically perfect in detail. Her cheeks were a light shadowed rose color and the smirk over her lips as she caught him staring, taking it all in, was enough to arouse a proper feminine chuckle from her.

"You asked me if I still had it," she smiled, curling a finger around a lock of hair, completely out of character for her.

A Hogwarts uniform never looked so good, or so sexy, as it did right then in his childhood bedroom. The house had fallen silent, the light around them dimmed and Sirius felt every muscle in his thirty-six year old body freeze. His lips parted slightly as explicit visions danced through his imagination so brazenly, that he felt ashamed to have felt them with her donning that attire.

Though she harbored an exciting kitten laden with secrets within, he never once thought he'd get a chance to relive such an adolescent fantasy. It was made very clear to him, by his libido, that she did not rekindle any sexual fantasies he may have had of her while she originally wore that attire. Only now was he quietly thanking her under his breath that she still owned that pleated skirt and necktie, for it screamed to be ripped off her mature body.

She wasn't about to roleplay as much as she was just wearing it due to his request. Maybe it was in jest that he mentioned it that afternoon coming back from lunch, but it was all worth it just to see his first reaction when he stepped into his bedroom. As if he'd just seen something that absolutely melted him for the first time, he couldn't take his eyes off of the way her crisp white blouse hid her every curve perfectly, however his witch neglected to button the top three buttons and her bright Gryffindor tie hung around her neck, covering her cleavage.

"You're breaking so many rules, you do know that, right?" he inquired, still standing in the doorframe of his room, truly unable to move.

It was obvious that the moment Sirius stepped over the threshold, there'd be no turning back and she was about to endure some serious charm on his part. For her to wear that fitted white shirt so innocently, the perfectly knotted neck tie in proud burgundy and gold, the fine skirt and knee socks was such a dangerous taboo for him, he was smart to mind his flippant tongue and not comment on how many other Gryffindor skirts (with a few Ravenclaws, a Hufflepuff and maybe a few turncoat Slytherins) he'd flipped up in his boyish games. _Yes, definitely something not to comment on._

"Yes, well…I didn't think you'd tell," her eyes fell away from him and focused on a few wrinkles in his comforter she sat upon.

Sirius took a few steps into his bedroom and used his foot to gracefully close the door behind him, "I don't know," he whispered with a low sultry tone, as if he had some leverage all of a sudden. "Depends on what you can do for me, Miss Granger."

She glanced back up at him coy, while biting her lower lip anxiously, "I didn't really want any tea."

Sirius smirked, "Me either," and dropped the two cups, making them disappear before they spilled over the carpet.

The proud arrogant wicked prince took out his wand and whispered, "_Silencio_," like he was chanting a seduction spell. His swagger took him alongside his antique bureau and set down his wand for he had no further use for it, for the rest of the evening.

His eyes followed hers, knowing that she was watching his every move under those wavy curtains of brown and winked at her with his old fashioned, familiar charm. As he neared the bed, moving practically in slow motion, Hermione tilted her head and rose to her knees when he got to the edge.

An inquisitive tilt of her head made him say, "Remus is home. Thought we'd be polite."

His hands slid around her waist, feeling the soft wool under his fingers. The high quality garment forced him to purr in her ear as she extracted memories from him. He kissed her neck lightly, scratching his shadowed stubble against her skin with delicate torture. Her soft hair smelled so fresh and clean from the outside air and fragrant soaps that she used, he felt his eye lids becoming heavier and heavier as he hypnotized himself with her aura.

Mischievous hands traveled down over her rear, his fingers catching the low hem of her skirt up underneath and feeling the cotton of her plain panties over a firm little arse. His nose nuzzled around her ear as he nipped her lobe lightly, whispering.

"So, you want to pretend that I'm the dirty professor and-" he began, but was immediately cut off.

"No!" she hurried and abruptly halted the foreplay.

That was too close to home for her. Too close to what she'd already experienced with Snape. Sure, their relationship was after Hogwarts and she always had a problem with disassociating him from being her one-time seven year professor, relating him to just a lover. But, for Sirius to suggest such a game was out of the question, no matter how tempting.

Sirius lowered his eyes, suspicious of a possible past conquest that may have been scandalous, "You're quick to change that. Something I should know of?"

He didn't wait long for an answer, and pushed further as he inquired about any little dark secrets she might harbor. The idea of this young girl in his arms possessing secret acts that cannot be discussed elated him and if it was possible, stirred an even stronger sexual cauldron in his loins. He laid a small kiss on her jaw, then around her temple and finally back below her ear.

"No," she whispered breathlessly, "Nothing like that," she lied.

"Then what, pray tell, shall we pretend? Or are you just trying to help me relive my youth?" his voice was dripping hot to her ears, bewitching her with minimal effort.

The magic of their chemistry swirled around them, winding them into a tornado of unresolved sexual tension just waiting to destroy them. If his hand was the scepter of power, he used it with great skill as a hand lingered around the front of her skirt and up underneath, grazing his fingers across her cotton panties.

For only their second night together, there still was a bit inhibiting her to allow herself such submissive carnal pleasures. She'd felt like their game of cat and mouse still continued, or at least they played like the game was still in session and though he'd already pinned her once, she believed that there was still very much at stake. What had happened the night before, that morning and the romantic dinner he had managed all resulted into the fine works of someone pursuing another. Again, just like the cat and mouse, the new cheese was seeing if they could work this all out.

She felt herself losing a bit of control and submitting to his whim, so she redirected her interests and pulled away to meet his dark eyes, "Let's not pretend," she suggested, "Let me just make you feel good tonight, Sirius."

"Whatever you say, love," he replied.

She was pleased that he was eager to drop the subject; he seemed to have a rare case of sexual A.D.D. She knew that she was just avoiding the inevitable of telling him of her past love interest, knowing full well he wasn't going to take it very well. She distracted him rather well when she helped him remove his own shirt, exposing his decorated, but firm, chest. _You'll have to tell him sometime. _His nimble fingers were eager to expose her, having immediately gone to the many buttons under her Gryffindor tie.

Hermione grinned, but clucked her tongue at him and shooed his hands away from her buttons. He pouted a lower lip like a toddler, after being denied a small pleasure. With a light shake of her head, she aggressively pulled him closer by the waistband of his pants and kissed him hard. A light growl from the back of his throat and she was pushing his fondling hands away for the second time.

"No!" she whispered sternly, but playfully.

His eyes darkened and he couldn't help but smirk at her dominant character. Something a bit of a dream to him from his past, but never had he been able to fulfill it. His eyes looked her over, watching the way her bosom shook from under the few buttons that were unfastened in her crisp white shirt and how her hair fell wild over her shoulders. His body moved at her control as she practically ripped the belt from his waist and taking down the zipper.

The air in the bedroom was full of positive energy, just like what had erupted between them the same time the night before. She was drawn to him, his voice, his appearance, his demeanor like no one else she'd experienced before. The "bad boy" type she'd been told her entire life to stay away from was at her mercy as she took down his zipper at an incredibly painful slow speed.

The dark haired man was ready to devour the fragrant flower before him like a lion does after he's killed his prey. But, was she just as an equal lioness with her enchantments and clever thought that he obeyed so obediently? He felt he'd met a good challenge, not a conquest, a challenge. Someone that fascinated him as well as stimulated him. For a split moment the night before, the idea threatened him that they were only going to be a one-time thing, "fuck buddies" if you will, but bit his thumb after the thought, knowing that she wasn't that type. The way she looked at him, spoke with him, argued with him, were all traits of someone on the natural hunt of a relationship. If she had regarded him any less, then yes, they would remain only as those buddies, but not now. Not when she'd stayed the entire night in his bed with him, only to awaken with her body pressed so tightly and confined to him like they were in a twin bed, did he smirk to himself that she was going to be a challenge.

He was certain, he would win.

Once his pants were thoroughly opened and his bulge was apparently ready, she finally reached for the buttons on her own shirt. Mechanically, he tried to help her, but she was quick to slap his sneaking hands away in order to do it at her own pace.

Like having a delicious dessert you could not taste, she teased him with practically every button that he had to distract himself by pulling off her own shirt so he could be ready sooner. His eyes fell down her young body, happily thanking himself that he possessed whatever it was she was attracted to him for and patiently awaited her to open her shirt so that he could feast his eyes on the lift of her soft breast and her flat stomach.

She opened her shirt up to reveal herself bare and braless, letting the tie fall between her breasts in an almost planned manner. Like a candyman, she moved backwards on her knees away from him in order to entice him onto the bed with her. In a matter of seconds, he was already being pushed down against the comforter and pillows and having his pants pulled off his body.

There were only a few moments in which he enjoyed being the submissive type and with her was definitely one of them. Of course, as much as he pretended not to admit it, he always had a thing for aggressive Hogwarts girls and she'd have taken the cake during his years.

He was incredibly vulnerable as he lay there, one would believe he had gotten soft, but only when it came to women. She gently stroked her hands up his thighs before crawling over his body to lay against the length of him.

The soft fabric of her skirt draped over his legs and he cherished the comforting sensation that this beautiful young witch wanted him in this fashion. She looked up at him with hypnotizing eyes and he ran his hands over her half naked body while on top of him, catching the hem of her skirt so that he could raise it up high enough to expose her perfectly cleffed arse.

"What now?" he whispered husky.

"I have my ideas," she replied.

Her eyes met his again, as she settled in before his hard muscle like a holy shrine. As slow as one handles a very valuable heirloom, she carefully grasped his member tenderly in her hand. She heard a light gasp come from him and he slowly closed his eyes to escape to oblivion under her touch.

She had Sirius Black under her control.

----

The sounds in the bedroom were only that of two individuals sighing after a vigorous and erotic workout. The magic in the air was thick and swirling, creating a peaceful and tranquil atmosphere to fall asleep in on the cold evening.

Hermione draped her leg over Sirius's thighs, tugging herself as close as one could be while resting their head against his chest. She slowly danced her fingers over his tattoos, listening to his heart beat strong and healthy. A euphoric contentment settled in her bones, feeling safe and secure and not out of place. Feeling Sirius's arm holding her tight against him was a comforting revelation of the man she once believed to be the most irresponsible adult she'd ever met.

"Do you have any regrets?" Hermione asked him, thinking about his past.

Her voice pleasantly broke the still silence in the room and he was eager to further conversation with her, after their activities.

"Sure," he plainly answered with no frills.

"I don't mean the small stuff. I mean, is there anything you wish you could go back and fix or change?" she clarified, tilting her head a little to see him better as he answered.

Sirius was quiet for a moment and his fingers stilled on her back as he thought about his answer . He concluded a rather simple answer, "I wish I was there for all those years with Harry."

Hermione could have guessed it was something along those lines and she felt a pang in her heart when the subject of her best friend came up. For the moment, it didn't seem that even right now when she had his undivided attention and Harry was still off flying in Bulgaria, or somewhere, doing what he'd always wanted to.

"I watched him grow up through the newspapers, always hoping that I was going to be able to connect with him, someday. James meant so much to me and I was so honored to be named his godfather," he elaborated quietly as his voice was low and sympathetic. "It was probably my proudest moment."

"I remember what you said to him that Christmas, right before you…left," she offered.

"And what was that?"

"You two were standing in the drawing room where the tapestry used to hang and I really hated to interrupt. You told him that when he got home, you two would be a real family, again," she quietly said, thinking fondly of the glimmer of hope for Harry.

Sirius didn't say anything, just started to circle his fingers along her arm again as he resumed his thoughts.

"And now you can be," Hermione finished for him.

"A lot has changed," he whispered.

"Maybe so, but Harry still sees you like a…" she was careful not to finish as the reality of the words unsettled her under their new situation.

"…like a father?" Sirius offered, understanding Hermione's thinking process.

"Yes," she whispered, nervously.

Sirius sensed Hermione's uneasiness and raised her chin to look up at him, as she rested against him in all their honest nudity.

"It's going to be all right," he offered with a light wink. "Harry will have to understand."

"But, what if he doesn't? What if all of this creeps him out and he forbids us to…"

"He won't," Sirius interrupted. "I'm nervous what he might say too, but he's going to have to understand and…" he was temporarily speechless by the way she looked up at him, so hopeful, so perfect, "and so is everyone else."

Her eyes gave a more content peace and she rested her head back against his chest. Though they secretly dreaded informing Harry of this new development, it was the explaining part that was going to be the hardest.

Sirius was quiet for a few seconds, before a light chuckle erupted from him, "Did you see the look on Snivellus's face when he walked in on us the other day? Bet it was a shock for him to see someone like you with someone like me."

_You have no idea._

Hermione felt her heart fall at the memory. She had utterly crushed Severus and it was going to have to be addressed eventually, with both men.

Changing the subject, she suggested, "So, Harry comes home Tuesday and then that night we have an Order meeting. The twins are having the holiday gathering at their store, so we'll be quite busy this week for Christmas. It'll be a nice proper welcome back for both you and Harry."

"I look forward to it, because they've been so few and far between," Sirius mused to himself.

"Well, I'm not quite sure what to expect from Fred and George, but I'm sure it'll be memorable," she commented like the weather.

"Any excuse to get you into a dark corner with mistletoe, is fine with me," Sirius joked, circling his arms around her, lightly tickling her sides affectionately.


	25. No One Can Keep a Secret

-1_A note from Serade Black:__ Thank you, as always for those that have left their say, even if it's not exactlly what I want to hear. I appreciate, truly, your say in what your thinking._

_Southampton-got it! Thanks!!_

_I'm working on the next chapter, so do not worry, those that are wanting more Sirius/Snape confrontation. It's coming, but I hope I don't disappoint. _

_Enjoy and thanks for readin!_

_SB_

**Ch. 25 - No One Can Keep a Secret**

"Good Morning, my twitterpated friends," Remus practically sung as Sirius came into the kitchen first, followed by his housemate.

The two came in like polar opposites after their new illicit affair. Hermione, with her tousled hair and wearing what appeared to be Sirius's button up work shirt, ducked her head away as if to hide the guilt of sex on her skin. Sirius, however, held his head high, proud, wearing only his linen pants and grinning like a school boy to his friend as if he was ready to shout to the high heavens over what he'd just gotten finished doing.

Being locked up for several years did build up an incredible sex drive that would put diagnosed nymphomaniacs to shame. It also helped that his vigorous work-outs he'd been doing to also build up his strength helped for more difficult positions that would make a gymnast cringe.

Remus chuckled under his breath and shook his head as he graciously handed Hermione her normal cup of tea, steaming perfectly and fixed the way she always liked it. Emerging from the curtains of guilty long locks, she smiled meekly and kindly accepted his routine gesture whenever he woke up before her.

Sirius watched the exchange between the two and yawned wide and loud like a lion, "What Mooney? No tea for me, mate?"

Remus pretended like he hadn't even noticed his long time friend standing by him hopeful when he politely smiled and pointed to the jar of Earl Grey in individual packets, "Help yourself, my friend."

Sirius mumbled a snarky remark under his breath about wimpy werewolves and made extra clanking noises when he retrieved a cup from the cabinet.

Hermione settled down at the table, tucking a leg under her, and took a long warm sip from her steaming cup. Cherishing the way the liquid gold soothed her throat, she carefully set down her cup on the saucer and reached for the front page of the Daily Prophet to see if anything of the Ministry was exposed.

After much unnecessary tea-making noise, Sirius finally slid into the chair next to her and pretended to ignore Remus who was smirking at him and his overdramatic morning antics of a three year-old. Feigning annoyance, he reached over and snatched up the sports section of the Prophet and tore it open to the quidditch to scour the pages for a mention of his godson's name.

The kitchen around them was quiet; hardly any stirrings from the three of them and Remus watched the two carefully, like a suspicious father. Sitting at the table without a shirt, Sirius had gone at least a full two days without shaving and his shadowed cheeks added a darker bad boy attitude about him. He was a stunning contrast next to the nearly perfect younger witch he'd taken quite a fancy to. She unconsciously fixed anything on the table that lay near her, straightening them into perfect lines, while the older wizard sitting next to her like a dirty vagrant liked his area uneven and almost in disarray. They were such a picturesque opposite pair.

However, as the smoke started to clear, there remained a sweetness to them, like the way a large dog licks a kitten clean. It'd been a couple of months of their ongoing touch-and-go game; it hadn't even been discussed who Hermione had last spent her late evenings with before Sirius started to play a stronger role in her life. Perhaps all was well on that level, but just the same, it was nice to see his long time friend finally find a balance again, even if it was with his godson's best friend.

The small alarm on the toaster indicated Sirius's English muffin was well toasted, so he got up to top it off with heavy caloric fruit spread. He'd resorted to fixing his breakfast the muggle way, by hand, when he'd realized he'd left his wand upstairs when he was preoccupied with making crude comments to Hermione about how sexy she looked when she put on his work shirt.

Hermione glanced over to the part of the paper Sirius was reading and saw a picture of Harry standing while holding his broom in one hand and an arm around the female seeker of the Norwegian Northbacks. With that unruly hair that looked just as windblown even if he had just gotten off a broom, the Prophet- picture Harry flinched every time a flashbulb went off.

The young witch smiled to herself when she thought about how soon he'd be home for the holidays and celebrate a long awaited Christmas with everyone of his surrogate family.

"Did you two enjoy dinner last night?" Remus asked with a slight interrogation in his voice.

She didn't look up and continued to read the paper while she leaned closer to Sirius's vacant seat, "Yes, thank you, it was lovely."

Sirius turned around from slopping his muffin up with strawberry jam and replied with a mouthful, "Yes, we went to the Charmed Rose, that place where we went when James proposed to Lily."

Remus chuckled lightly and stood up, "Yes, I know," he leaned over towards Hermione and softly added, "It's on page four. "

"What? What do you mean?" Hermione froze and swallowed her breath as she started to frantically turn the pages of the yellowing parchment that still lay in front of her as she immediately felt like her dirty laundry had been aired.

Sirius held his mouth open as he was about to take another bite, "What do you mean, page four?"

Hermione flipped to the appropriate page and immediately froze when her eyes bestowed upon a one/third sized column under a headline in bold print that said **Black Tracks **: _The Sightings of Azkaban's Favorite Ex-Convict_.

Hermione was positively beside herself with worry as she watched herself standing in the frame with Sirius, as he leaned over to kiss her cheek, but tearing apart as soon as a flashbulb went off, displaying the sad faces of guilt.

Feeling as if they'd been properly exposed, she laid her elbows on the table and allowed her face to fall into them with dismay, "Merlin's Beard, this is bad."

She couldn't sit and read it, so she stood up and started to pace the room, quickly glancing back at the window as if waiting for Hedwig to fly in with a Howler from her best friend over this discovery. Sirius walked passed her and leaned over, reading the article aloud.

**He's Baaack!**

_By: Rita Skeeter_

_I'm proud to say that we have gone through the archives and re-opened this favored column. First used, just to track the steps of one of Azkaban's most dangerous convicts, later to be used to trace his cousins and blood. Higher editors have decided that we discuss the following of only the innocent named man._

_Like a refresher through time, as if a storm was brewing, the winds have started to change for well-known Azkaban escapee, Sirius Black. He was spotted leaving The Charmed Rose last evening dressed in finer threads than his stripes. Looking well rested, alive and very handsome, he was seen leaving with a plain unknown young witch with whom, sources say, he shared a quiet private dinner with. When asked about his courtship, he was tight lipped for details, leaving us pining for a morsel of gossip. Another witness at the restaurant said the two were quite close, sharing a bottle of wine and mild petting was involved. When asked about his company, he merely referred to her as "his lady"._

_No word on how his family would take it, seeing as he is the last of one of the eldest pureblood families. I'm sure that with some empty promises to a few older portraits that probably still hang in the Black house (location unknown); we'd be able to pull out juicy tidbits. It seems that though Sirius tries to remain anonymous in certain areas of his life, we still manage to find him in the most peculiar places._

_Still, with a picture perfect smile, raven black hair you could spin from and more wealth than can be counted, it's good to know that an excellent catch like this has had his name cleared. More details when they become available._

"Well," Sirius began, pushing himself up from leaning over the table, "I warned her that I wouldn't do anymore interviews with the Prophet if they printed anything untrue." He stood in front of Hermione to halt her pacing, "You're anything but plain, love," and kissed her on the cheek before going to finish his English muffin.

His affections were wasted as Hermione stilled, letting the exposure sink her in like quicksand, "If Harry sees this, then he's going to be incredibly upset. It would have sounded better coming from us"

She resumed to her pacing across the kitchen nervously, glancing again at the window for Hedwig, but anticipating and early arrival from Harry who was going to beat his own owl and give them a very stern talking to in person..and then disown both of them.

Chewing away like a caveman, Sirius hopped up on the counter casually and said, "Well, the damage has been done. We can't go around and pick up every copy of the Daily Prophet out there."

Hermione stopped in mid stride and quickly glanced over at him, as if considering it was actually a good idea, but before she got a word in, Sirius shook his head and gave her a definite, "No!".

Her shining light bulb went out in her head and her shoulders fell in disappointment, "The only saving grace that we might have over this, is that for a long time Harry wouldn't read further than the front page. At most, he may only be pulling the quidditch section and be done with it. Let's hope he doesn't get bored and flip through the paper."

Sirius let the worst case scenario of the article sink in and it really was inevitable that Harry would see it. Someone was going to point it out to him and it was only a matter of time until they heard his opinion on the relationship he was beginning with his best friend.

Sirius and Hermione apparated into the Ministry for work, walking side-by-side, but not affectionately. Sirius led the way, as Hermione busied herself with a copy of the muggle paper, reading about what the other Prime Minister was doing and if there was any code in the writings that her kind might miss. As they got into the lift, they got a few glances, but mostly the attention was on Sirius for some hadn't seen him yet since his departure from Azkaban and they tended to gawk at him under their heavy lidded eyes and behind their office memos while they quickly made a judgment. Some witches who had run onto the lift last couldn't help but try and attract his attention by doing mild girly things like tossing their hair or fixing the collar of their shirt.

He had really honed in on his deflective flirting, for he feigned uninterested well. He smiled politely at the witches, giving them a friendly nod and receiving a flirting smile from the redhead, but Sirius licked his lips and ducked his head away with flattery. Meanwhile, Hermione's eyes couldn't help but linger off the pages of her muggle newspaper to view the little scene, but her self-confidence was assured when Sirius privately reached out to squeeze her hand. This had been hidden from the witches, but the subtle gesture meant the world to Hermione and she grinned foolishly and returned to her paper.

As the lift started to slow down before it reached the Auror floor, Hermione felt her insides beginning to churn. Her stomach started to slowly unsettle and an overbearing feeling of anxiety started to attack. Keeping herself calm and collected, she gave no signs of weakness as the rickety old lift stopped and the grate before them slid open to the Auror floor.

The two emerged into the department and had approximately fifteen seconds of being unnoticed, until Thompson gave a loud quidditch match whistle, alerting a few nearby. A slow wave of colorful hoots and applause started to take over the more they walked passed cubicles to their respective reporting areas. Feeling all unnecessary eyes on them, Hermione wanted to crawl back under the floor boards of the lift and apparate back home. Feeling her cheeks warming from embarrassment, her moment of weakness came and she turned around and tried to bolt back to the lift, but Sirius reached out and grabbed her hand. Beaten and feeling like she'd come to school naked, she put on a fake, exhausted smile to try and be better than the center of attention.

It was very obvious that the small article had made its way to work.

Auror Dawlish stood up and leaned over the partition of his cubicle as the two came down the hall. As they passed, he gave Sirius thumbs up and when Hermione's peripheral vision couldn't see, Sirius smiled and returned said jeering of a thumbs up. She glanced back at him, and he immediately corrected himself and pretended to have an itch on his arm. To their right, the low chuckle of Kingsley was heard over by the window, where behind him was just showing the night lights of Las Vegas. Loretta had timed it just right to stand up and walk in front them, pretending not to notice the two of them, but obviously a little ticked off at the big secret the two kept.

Sirius dropped her off at the lane her desk was in, not bothering to give her a kiss good-bye that morning because it was apparent that she had no interest in displaying any affection with the amount of attention she'd just received coming into the office. Sirius just squeezed her hand and turned to go off toward in the other direction, but as she glanced back at him walking through the office, his stride was more of a strut and she witnessed him receiving a few "high-fives" along the way. Absolutely mortified, she was about to melt right into the carpet and pretend she hadn't come in for work that day.

Finding her desk, Hermione came to the end of the row where cubicle was and released a defeated sigh Her cubicle, its walls, her corkboard, her computer screen, and her chair had all been completely wallpapered with the article and its moving picture. Like the paparazzi, the flashbulbs constantly went off from the picture of the two, creating an almost lightning effect as she concluded that the department had definitely seen it. Dropping her books on the chair, crushing a few dozen copies of the article, she started to take down the clippings, stacking them up neatly on her desk where later she would put them through the shredder. She saw no need in keeping the article around, just in case some of her co-workers had thought of something even cleverer to jab her with.

In a whirl of color, a ginger head dashed by her, taking his seat in the cubicle behind her and cluttering up his desk trying to pretend like he'd been there for at least ten minutes. Just like he'd been at Hogwarts, Ron was totally unprepared and eagerly looked to Hermione for any indication that his job had been threatened for the third time this week.

"So, has he come 'round? Did I miss anything?" Ron asked, shoving a donut in his mouth as he pulled it from his coat pocket.

Hermione just looked at him like she didn't understand the language he was speaking and shook her head. He was apparently oblivious to all the antics that morning, as they passed right under his nose.

Hermione had been diligently translating some ancient giant's runes when her boss, Gawain Robards peered over her cubicle wall to inspect her work. A slight glance to his right and he saw the Weasley boy tilted back in his chair, his feet on the desk, reading a muggle male magazine.

"If you have something else better to do, Mr. Weasley, then I suggest you run off and do it, otherwise get your feet off Ministry property!" Mr. Robards alerted, causing Ron to practically pee on himself before straightening up as fast as lightning. "Miss Granger, if you wouldn't mind a few minutes in my office. Do you have time?"

Hermione obediently laid down her quill and nodded, "Yes sir, I'll be right in."

Mr. Robards nodded his head and pushed away from there area, slowly cruising the other cubicle cities.

"Oi! Why didn't you tell me he was coming?" Ron asked in a fierce stage whisper.

She turned around on her heel as she grabbed a notebook and extra quills to be prepared for whatever it was she was going to do with Robards, "I didn't know! I had my nose buried too deep into giants' runes to notice him hovering!" With a final scolding, she gave him a good thump on the head before she hurried off.

Hermione glanced over at Kingsley, who otherwise pretended to loathe the girl and gave her a fake tongue clucking as she knocked before entering. Hearing her permission, the young witch went inside and closed the door behind her. She couldn't help but have a slight anxiety attack, believing that though she had perfect attendance, good reviews and 100 job completion, her heart was still in her throat as she tried to rack her brain why. Why did her palms already start to sweat and why did she sit down and remember to cross her ankles on top of one another like the queen of etiquette? She was doubting her competency, trying to go over in her head about any important assignments she may have missed, confirming it was all in order and she had remembered to cross her t's and dot her I's.

Mr. Robards sat comfortably in his chair before standing up to start speaking to her casually, allowing his own "quick quotes quill" to do most, if not all, of the dictation.

"Very simple Miss Granger, I wanted you to truly take time over these holidays to peruse your notes. You'll be tested the day after Christmas, meaning we'll put you through the Gauntlet and if all is golden, as I have no doubt it will be; you'll be sworn in the following week. Can you comply, Miss Granger?" Robards explained, talking to the air as if his voice was nearly poetic.

Hermione scribbled furiously and nodded, "Yes, Mr. Robards."

Her boss nodded his please and went back behind his desk, casually sitting down as if that was all he had for her. Hermione started to cap her ink when she assumed the meeting was over, but was quickly distracted when her name was called again.

"Hermione, there's also something else I need to address with you," he opened up, with a lighter tone of voice now, almost fatherly.

"Sir?" she asked, taking out her ink again.

"No, no, you don't need to take notes regarding this, Miss Granger," he sighed and collected himself as he folded his hands together on his desk. "Word has traveled to me that you and Mr. Black are otherwise, involved."

Hermione closed her eyes, wishing so desperately that this was the day before and she had declined the dinner date after a night of ravenous sex.

"Yes sir, but trust me, it'll be strictly professional here at the work place," she was quick to defend.

Robards nodded his head and continued, "It's not that we don't allow a relationship here, it's that we condemn them. It's even mentioned in the handbook."

Hermione furrowed her brow, a bit unsure what the difference was, but quickly rethinking maybe her and Sirius should stop any and all relations. Though she genuinely had feelings for Sirius, she'd worked so hard on this position and what she had Sirius was still new.

"You see, Miss Granger, it goes back during the last war, a bit before you were born, with all due respect," he started, nodding his acknowledgement regarding her age. "We had a pair of Aurors, Becky and Leon Trimbleton. I believe Leon graduated before Becky, but they had met here, married shortly thereafter, no children.

They were both sent out on an assignment together; something that later turned into a severe ambush by You -Know-Who's puppy dog followers and shots of light were filling the air like muggle fireworks. There were screams, there were shouts, but unfortunately when all the smoke had cleared, you saw what was left of it all and it wasn't what was expected. We came out on top, but it appeared that as Leon and Becky were attacking in the same area, a fellow Auror had seen how a stray stream from Becky's wand hit her own husband, killing him instantly.

Apparently, he had been hit with another contradicting spell at the same time and two at once was entirely too much for a body to handle, even a wizard's. Becky ran to him, taking in the scene before her and forgetting about what was going on around her. There were a few Death Eaters still lurking about and breaking the code, several tried to save Becky, but instead lost their lives because she couldn't focus on the prize. She lost herself when she lost him there in the war, standing right beside her, dying from a blast from her own wand. Several of our own died at her weakness and just when they had the chance to get away, Becky stood before us all, yes I was there, and took her life with her own wand by performing a killing curse on herself.

It was nothing like I'd not ever seen, nor wish to ever again. I doubt it would happen again, because I'm sure there are romances here in the department I don't know about, but it's ones like theirs, the deep ones that take us all over. My wife showed an interest in becoming an Auror and I told her she could. Providing she didn't mind my quitting," Robards finished, occupying himself during his storytelling with a nearby paperclip.

Hermione remained still, a bit rough, but calm all the same. What she'd just learned put a new prospective on what she was getting into, but understood it from a different level. Speaking from past experiences, she related this to her relationship with Severus and how if it came to choosing, he'd have no choice but to choose Voldemort's side, rather than have his life taken and lose any opportunity to fight for her. Severus loved her; however he never lost the focus of the mission. He was a true soldier, at that.

"I don't tell you this to discourage you, because I believe you and Mr. Black could possibly be different, but I could be wrong. I won't tell you to change your life for this job, but I'm warning you what this job is capable of when getting involved in your personal life.

I believe you're a good one, Hermione and I am just letting you know about what you might not find in those books you desperately hold on to for information," he finished.

Hermione nodded slowly, staring off into space, but taking all of it in just the same. It was apparent that she'd have to have a good, long discussion with Sirius, before they got any deeper.

"Thank you, sir," she quietly spoke and slowly stood to leave the office.

Once she got to her cubicle, she sat in silence alone with her thoughts, just barely gazing out the window next her at a new scene of a bright field of flowers with windmills. Try as she might, she was plagued with what to do, how to think, what to care and all of it was forcing her deeper and deeper, where she nearly felt like a zombie.

With the unruly thump like a sack of potatoes had been dropped in the seat behind her, Ron returned from wherever he shouldn't have been, "Hey Hermione, I need you to clarify a bet I've got going on with Thompson."

Hermione just barely turned her head to see him totally oblivious to her change, but listened just the same. He never was one to pay attention to detail.

"Thompson said that you're sleeping with Sirius. Can you believe it, I almost cried I was laughing so much, because I would believe that you would have told me the truth by now," Ron tried to rationalize, watching her carefully. "Wait a minute, is that?" he saw a stray picture of the article that had been newly placed on her fresh corkboard. "Hermione is Sirius…is he kissing you? You're at dinner? You look really nice and he's all…dolled up, too, holy shit, Hermione! Harry is going to flip!"

Hermione was just too emotionally occupied to make any clever retorts and merely said, "You're so observant, Ronald."

After lunch, Hermione had returned to her desk to find Sirius sitting in her chair adding a mustache to himself on one of the stray articles that had flown in through an office memo. He saw her feet in his peripheral and his eyes traveled the length of her, smiling big as if he'd been caught doing something naughty, but held it up to show off his artistic nature. She grinned somberly and folded her arms over her stomach, waiting for him to say something.

"So, you think you can beat my score of ninety-seven when you run the Gauntlet, Granger?" Sirius bragged, leaning back into the chair and resting his arms behind his head arrogantly.

Momentarily, her dismal thoughts were distracted and her face brightened for him, "You scored a ninety-seven? Sirius that's brilliant! The record is only ninety-eight and you've been gone for six years!"

He smiled smug, "Yes well, you knew I was good. Let's just see if you can keep up."

This had pleased her tremendously, she was so proud of him. He was boyishly handsome with the way his dark hair fell unevenly around his ears slick and shaggy, and when he smiled there was evidence of faint dimples masquerading as laugh lines around his mouth. When genuinely happy, he was amazing to look at for he had the fleeting confidence of someone who had it all and Hermione was lucky enough to be right there with him.

His delicious smile made her glow for him, erupting in a sweet sincere brief giggle. Opening his eyes and glancing all around him like a suspicious spy, he stole her hand to kiss the top of it. Then he put said hand against his cheek affectionately, "I'd say we go and celebrate, but I think we've already done that."

Her smile faded, but it remained intense on him like they were giving one another a mental challenge. With one more kiss into the palm of her hand, he stood up and passed her close enough to have kissed her, but left her lips lingering. Trailing behind him as he left, the faint scent of his cologne practically brought Hermione to her knees like a weakling. She forced herself to take a seat and refrain from following behind him, before she made an idiot of herself.

By the end of the day, those same dismal thoughts plagued her mind once again. The idea that she and Sirius were not a good pairing while they both worked together, just pointed fingers at the fact that they were entirely too taboo for Harry to fathom.

The evening at home, the evening before Harry arrived back to Grimmauld Place, was a very tame one compared to others. Before bed, Hermione went around the house to tidy up a bit, making sure things were in their right place and Pollux was properly briefed not to open his mouth about any of the personal goings-on. Hermione tapped a laundry basket to have the clothes fold themselves and she bid both wizards good-night as they sat in silence as one read a book and the other perused Ministry memos like the paper was covered in some infectious disease.

"Good night, I'm going to bed," she said meekly with her mind still occupied elsewhere. With a small, uneventful wave she quietly ascended up the stairs.

The ancient clock gonged it's eleventh hour, the winds outside started to pick up as loose branches hit the window, the portrait of Pollux Black cleared his throat and the eyes of Remus burned into Sirius like a smoldering sun in the desert.

Sirius sighed loud enough for Remus to hear and just got up without a word to check on his lady.

Remus resumed reading his own book and added, "Its part of your job, now."

"I know, I know," Sirius said, swinging around the banister and taking two steps at a time.

Hermione hadn't closed her door the entire way and when she was leaning over to peer into her vanity mirror, Sirius causally walked into her bedroom and flopped down on her bed exhausted.

"I thought you could only come into my bedroom if I've invited you," Hermione asked, turning around with her fingers still on the clasp of her necklace.

"Yes, well, as soon as we've slept together, the rules are pretty obsolete," he explained with a careless flair. With a boyish grin, Sirius laid flat across her pale blue comforter on his stomach and propped his head up on his wrists to talk to her, "Now what have I done wrong, already?"

She finally got the stubborn necklace off and turned to put it into her jewelry box, "It's a bit complicated actually and I think we need to talk about it."

"If it's about that witch that bought me that drink and then kissed me on the cheek, I can explain…" he began, holding his arms up to exaggerate his story further.

Hermione tilted her head perplexed, "I don't remember that."

He smiled wide like a Cheshire cat and as innocent as the fresh day, "Then I didn't do it."

She sighed and shook her head; her brown curls falling before her shoulders hiding her look that was so forlorn. She started to pace slowly in front of the bed, enough for Sirius to sit up on the edge of the bed giving her his full attention, respectively.

"It's just that I've spoken to Robards and according to the Auror handbook, we can't have a relationship," she said somberly, running a hand through her unruly hair.

"It said we shouldn't have a relationship," he corrected, lifting an eyebrow to her.

Hermione met his stormy eyes intrigued. How did he know?

He gave her a slight smirk and a defiant wink, "I finished reading the handbook and I remember that part."

Her heart couldn't help but its routine flutter every time Sirius mentioned something regarding the both of them together. With a small teasing wave, her giddiness was over and not an emotion was spared as her joyous moment was only fleeting and they were still in the same place.

For someone so bright, so intelligent, so predictable, Sirius was truly at a loss some of the time with the way she truly felt. She had built herself so tough in the beginning that it took him so long to break down the barriers she built for him.

He reached for her hand and she allowed herself to be pulled in to him, then onto his lap, "I was thinking that you were still dreading Harry's arrival-"

"I am," she interjected, looking down at the buttons on his shirt blindly.

"…and I was thinking that we'd have to come up with a quick plan on how we're going to sneak around," Sirius teased as he swept the hair away from her shoulder.

The gentle caress of his fingers around her neck made her react like it tickled, but mostly it was nerves. Completely comfortable with him, she still felt like she had something to prove, like one does when they're waiting for the other shoe to fall off. She tried to suppress a small smile, but failed poorly when he started a light train of kisses below her ear and down around her bare neck. After a few moments to themselves, or just to his gentle soothing, it was obvious that whatever had bothered Hermione before was quickly starting to melt away with the way he rested his hand over her stomach.

He nuzzled his nose in her hair and whispered seductively as if repeating a light chant, "We'll tell Harry," he breathed, "and he'll have to get over any reservations he has about this." She closed her eyes at the low husky voice that sounded much like a raunchy heaven, "I know it's a bit far fetched to some, but I don't want to change a thing about what we've got right now."

Hermione felt her throat beginning to close up, on the verge for a really good healthy cry, but overwhelmed with something. Her breath was taken away gently by the featherlike kiss he left on her lips once…twice…a lap…and then he went deeper. Her ears tingled when his scruffy chin scraped over hers and even though it was rough, she was secretly elated with the pleasurable torture.

----

The ancient clock downstairs chimed only once, indicating that it was one in the morning. The house had settled down a few hours ago, all three of its human occupants were tucked tight in their beds.

Unable to distinguish one body from another, Sirius had pulled Hermione tightly against him; they barely needed the extra comforter to protect them from the evening's chill. His face rested close to hers as his arm hugged her safely to his chest like a worthy protector. His fingers tangled themselves in her cotton nightgown, innocently lying on top of the fabric and not underneath like a horny schoolboy.

Peacefully drifting off to a deeper than death slumber, their quietude was abruptly interrupted by a gasping stage whisper.

Like a rhino through a wall gasping for air, Remus threw open Hermione's bedroom door in mad search for the pair after not finding them asleep in Sirius's room. With no introduction or subtle wake-up gestures, he blurted as loud as a mouse, "Harry's home!"

As if cold water had splashed down their backs, they sat up like a shot, Sirius a few seconds late and scrambling out of the bed like it was on fire. Grace upon alert was not his forte and he fell out of the bed wrapped up in sheets in a heap on the floor.

"He's here! Sirius, you better come downstairs before he comes up and starts looking for both of you!" Remus advised looking at both of them with urgent concern.

Hermione jumped out of bed after absorbing the information and letting her brain catch up after waking up in a start. She functioned just fine and started to run around the room collecting scattered clothes, trying to make it look not so coupled or shagged in. Throwing her pink robe on, she whirled around to check Sirius's dressing status.

Wearing beige linen pants, he grabbed his clothes off the floor, trying not to leave any evidence behind. She smiled when she saw he was nearly done and went to the door to brace herself to see Harry while wearing a weighted guilt on her conscience. With an extra tug on the tie of her robe, she went for the door handle to quietly slip out.

The door was stopped abruptly by the gorgeous panting older wizard. He looked down at her absolutely frazzled and nervous like she was about to be severely scolded for every wrong thing she'd ever committed, and being friends with Harry and Ron made it a much longer list than what she was capable of.

He wrapped his hand around her throat and guided her to one last kiss before they saw Harry. It was like time around them stopped, pausing anything and everything in the world for that moment to allow him to kiss her without any concerns. His aura was magic and it settled into her like a warm blanket, releasing her of the immediate jitters she had given herself.

Strangely drunk from his euphoria of the kiss, she knew he'd done something to assist their nerves and opened her eyes slowly, waiting for him to speak from that angelic voice. She looked upon him like a dream, standing there without a shirt, his tattoos hidden to no one and a stomach she wanted to lick syrup off of.

He gave her a traditional wink and confirmed, "It's going to be fine," his voice was so calm, "Harry will have to understand."

Meanwhile, in the kitchen Remus had already taken down some glasses so that they might have a late night eggnog and brandy. Hermione had come into the kitchen first and welcomed a hug from her long time best friend, but it was when Sirius came in through the door did the energy in the room just still. When Harry set eyes on Sirius, it was like James had walked in and all Harry needed to do was touch his godfather.

Sirius walked in, still bare of his shirt, and slowly smiled at his friend's kin gazing up at him in slow motion. Harry had been just too busy and occupied to really take in the fact that his only relative that cared for him was back and ready to take part in the rest of his life. That man, the one with tattoos of a wronged past that shared the same connection, stood still in his spot and warmly opened his arms to be taken in.

Standing almost as tall, Harry went to Sirius and clutched onto him with his snitch catching, broom-riding arms and allowed all the love transpire between them. Harry had been alone for so long with substitute parents of the Weasleys, that Sirius was the only one he ever felt "home" with.

"I have missed you, boy," Sirius whispered, messing up Harry's hair as his arms relaxed.

Hermione stood by the kitchen sink, holding a baggy sleeve up to cover her mouth in peaceful awe of the two grown men. The scene unfolding before them was long overdue and was probably never done; even the six years ago that Harry had him even for that brief time. It warmed her to no end being in that room; the only thing missing was Ron to complete her comfort. Remus had remained a true, honest friend from once being her professor and Sirius was sharing a new position in her life, and Harry, her first real friend next to Ron with whom she shared great adorations for, made up her family.

Just as emotion was about to sweep over Sirius, he didn't feel like they needed to make a scene about the moment and, to no surprise to anyone, announced that there was drinking to do at that very hour. The four huddled around the ancient old table that sat in the same place for over a hundred years and raised their glasses of eggnog and brandy, only brandy for Sirius, to toast a warm welcome home to those that have been absent.

Two solid hours had passed and the four felt like they had caught up with enough for the evening, complete with fun gossip Harry had heard while on the tour ranging from naked quidditch groupies in standing in the snow to players' own mothers sabotaging the visiting team.

As Harry was stifling a yawn the size of a bear when they filed out of the kitchen and ascended up the stairs, he added, "Oh, and again, Krum has asked after you. Might do the poor bloke a favor and drop him an owl so he'll stop pressuring me. I'm really starting to feel like the middle man, Hermione."

Hermione nodded as she followed in sync to her best friend ahead of her, practically feeling the icy stare she was receiving from behind her, "Right, I'll get on that."

A light dropping shuffle fell behind her as Sirius tripped and tried to hide it, "Sorry, missed a stair."

Hermione merely glanced behind her to the one she fancied and caught his silhouette in the dark darkly gaze back up at her. She couldn't make out his face clearly, but she imagined those dark blue eyes putting her on the spot and though she didn't want to make him jealous, she couldn't help but feed it just a morsel to see if he'd bite.

"Good night, everyone," Harry announced as he stood on his landing before his bedroom door. "I'm highly looking forward to passing out in my own bed for a change, rather than some knight bus cot."

With a mutual wave, the three others continued up the stairs splitting at the top. Remus gave his good night and kissed Hermione lightly on the temple before turning in the other direction of the hallway. As he disappeared through the darkness, the shadowed hallway engulfing his presence into a black abyss, Sirius couldn't help but just lightly run his finger over Hermione's wrist.

As if he did it to remind her he was still there, she stopped at her door to watch him fold his arms over his chest and lean against the wall. His black hair fell before his shoulders as he ducked his head to whisper with her.

"So, I guess we should play it safe for tonight, love," he whispered as if it was inevitable.

The dark shadows over his half naked body reminded her of a gothic angel standing in a cemetery. She could just make out his features under the moonlight creeping from a window at the end of the hall. Never had she seen him in this light that he was almost a stranger to her and it made her want to touch him so much more.

She hadn't realized that she was staring at how beautiful he was standing there, leaning against the wall like a jock by a muggle locker, and remembered to nod, "Yes, definitely." She glanced down at the first landing to Harry's door, worried that he might stick his head out and catch them in the act of flirting.

He nodded and leaned over to give her a chaste kiss and a final wink, "My door will be unlocked anyway, just in case."

She could still feel his kiss lingering over her lips as he disappeared behind his own door. Sighing to herself, she wondered why he still made her heart flutter.

----

A mid-morning chill woke Sirius up as he breathed in the scent of his lady friend who had recently occupied the vacant spot next to him. It had been so long to have had female company like hers, that he felt slightly cheated that he had to spend the last night alone, leaving him to his own empty palm. His condemned life of celibacy had finally been put to a halt as he writhed around with the witch, ravishing her young body like a goddess. It was like tasting the forbidden fruit and now he risked having it taken away. Sirius feared the worst once Harry discovered the news. The idea of the two sharing secrets under the sheets might be a bit unsettling for the lad, so he was prepared to be cursed at in the event of total disenchantment.

Sirius growled to himself as he glanced at the clock and saw that it was nearly ten o'clock in the morning, but mildly relieved that he'd received the day off for Harry's arrival. The holidays were approaching and being who he was; Robards didn't expect the infamous Sirius Black to work over his first Christmas back amongst the living.

The kitchen sounds of clanking cups, sizzling bacon and an enchanted spatula flipping pancakes into the air added to the serene sight as delicious smells filled Sirius's senses. Harry sat at the table eagerly awaiting a home cooked breakfast Hermione had prepared when she was just fixing him a plate. Remus stood with the refrigerator open as he retrieved a carafe of milk to put into a bowl of cereal.

"Well, this is a sight I'm more than pleased to see in the morning," Sirius announced to the kitchen company, as if his stomping down the stairs wasn't enough.

"Sirius, a herd of elephants would have made less noise than you just did. Did you have to wake the neighbors as well?" Hermione said, scraping some eggs on the plate in front of Harry.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, "Well, it's nearly ten, they all should be up anyway. They're practically sleeping through the entire day and should be ashamed of themselves."

As Hermione turned around to return to the stove to start another plate, she caught Sirius in a side glance and watched how he gave her a flirty wink to say good morning, but refrained from touching her due to the extra audience. Their silence together was filled with Harry making small chat with Remus and Sirius starting his own morning concoction.

She settled down next to Sirius at the table and watched he and Harry devour their breakfasts like cavemen. She on the other hand rolled her eyes and cut into her pancake with a dainty flair, pinky up, displaying picture perfect dining etiquette, but they were both beyond repair.

With a mouthful, Harry dug into his robe pocket to fetch something out, "Oh Sirius, there was something I've been meaning to ask you."

"Go ahead, mate," he answered, glancing over at the front page of the Daily Prophet Hermione had just unfolded in front of her. Now with a trained eye, he perused the articles with her, trying to notice any mentions of any crazy Death Eater progress.

Harry dropped a folded piece of paper down on the table as he resumed eating like an animal and took in a heaping bite of pancake loaded with butter. Sirius saw the piece of paper for him and set down his fork to unfold it. He froze, swallowed hard and bestowed his eyes upon the article just in time to allow a flash bulb to go off in his hands.

"What are your intentions with Hermione?" Harry asked eyes firmly on him.


	26. Confronting the Past

-1_A note from Serade Black:__ A long time coming, I've finally updated. I owe it to each one of you to start updating more frequently. It's the fact that I've been working and tweaking on inconsistencies and trying to tie things together I've planned on all along._

_I'm pleased that you like the dynamic change in Harry. You'll see how things follow through as well as getting a taste of some of the inevitable. Thanks again for taking the time to read..I am always tweaking this story to bits, so thanks for sticking by it! _

Chapter 26

Life made sense, as did the consequences for certain actions. He hadn't forgiven the incompetence of the Ministry for allowing his solitude of an extended stay in Azkaban because of wrong accusations. He believed strongly that the ones to blame for his judgment will pay greatly and for all of that, he was prepared.

However, when he was confronted there in the kitchen with a piece of tattered guilt in his hands that paled to comparison to anything he'd admitted to, he wasn't prepared. Old memories flooded him as he recalled vicious acts of wrong belonging to his teen years as the parchment fell limp in his hands before him over his scandalous predicament.

The words began to run together as Sirius's eyes read the article repeatedly, secretly wishing it was a quidditch score and not himself holding Hermione's hand affectionately and just leaning up from a chaste kiss on her cheek. White knuckles bent the cut out, shameful of the damage he had caused and the sin he had committed.

Hermione took in a breath the moment she saw the reason to Sirius's silence, firmly grasped in his hands as if it contained the meaning of life. Absent to words, she lost the ability to speak.

Harry arched an eyebrow in question behind black wire-rimmed glasses, patiently awaiting an answer from his loving godfather. The lack of a quick story proved a theory that nothing had been prepared. Harry's flicked between the two of them as he started a constant dull finger tapping that beat against a drip from the sink, reverberating into the interogated's ears like thunder. Down one finger…down another…and finally a quiet palm slap. Each second ticking away for a decent answer to why Sirius, his godfather, his legal guardian, his confidant, was seen intimately with his best friend in a public wizarding establishment.

"Well, I'm waiting to hear," the bespectacled one asked, while tearing away at a buttermilk biscuit held in his hand.

Sirius Black was a grown man who'd seen things that would curl the Pope's hair. He'd committed wrongful things, been with women twice his age, done shots with Death Eaters as a child, runaway from home, and gone to wizard prison, but as Harry stilled his eyes over him, he felt worthless and insignificant. Had anyone else approached him and demanded an answer, Sirius would have told the questionnaire to bugger a rosebush, but instead the inquisitor was the closest thing to a son he had and whom deserved any answer he so desired. Especially when the witch in discussion, has been his best friend since the time he discovered he was a wizard.

Sirius raised his chin proud and laid the tattered article unforgiving on the table, "I can explain, Harry, but don't take it out on Hermione. I'm the adult here-"

"I beg your pardon? I wouldn't go about declaring yourself that title so soon, Sirius. Harry, it was-" she attempted to defend, but was immediately cut off.

"Hermione," Sirius raised a hand to claim the table's topic of discussion for his own, "let me talk-"

"No!" she interjected, but lost poorly.

"It sounds better coming from me," Sirius declared, waiting for Hermione to quiet down so he could begin making up for what has gone wrong.

Harry remained quiet and still, watching the two of them argue amongst themselves over who was more to blame for their otherwise, made-for-each other, relationship. He studied the way his godfather attempted to play the responsible adult, but was quickly struck down by the pretty witch that sat next to him on edge over why she couldn't speak up for herself. Repeatedly, the two bantered back and forth, one after another putting the blame on themselves and why they ended up together in the first place. Harry got the full story in bits, starting back to when Sirius first arrived, on to Sirius's recovery, then Hermione assisting him with a new job at the Ministry, to their first kiss and to the present moment when it concluded to Sirius's final word.

"I seduced her, Harry, really. She's just an innocent bystander who-"

"You did not! Besides, he doesn't need to know that much," Hermione huffed, irritated that too much information was being offered.

Finally, Harry was able to control the insatiable urge to chuckle at them like two school children and just held both his hands up to signal a white flag of defeat. He had heard enough and it was starting to sound like what he was used to, all over again. They both immediately stopped their banter and looked at Harry, as if they'd both admitted too much of something and this was the moment when Harry was finally going to have his say.

"Just a minute," Harry finally got three words in, quite impressed with himself. "You two don't really think that I'm upset about this, do you?"

Sirius blinked a few hundred times before glancing over at Hermione to make sure she heard the same words he did. His mouth parted, unable to explain the rather rational behavior the young James had poised and finally just shook his head in disbelief.

"Aren't you?" Sirius whispered his volume soft as if afraid something might reset and Harry might possibly flip a switch.

Harry slowly smiled for the two of them, as if wondering why anyone else would want to share company with either of them. Their constant bickering complimented each other like two of the best condiments for a sandwich and if they didn't see it before, it was because they were blind until now. His best friend was no stranger to having relations with older men and Sirius, well his godfather was always a risk taker. He appreciated what kind of minimal torture the two may have had to endure when they hid their flirtations from Harry, but as their timeline had been exposed, it appeared that their slow games had happened entirely during his absence. Living together in a mansion, even with over fourteen bedrooms, they were bound to bump into each other frequently. It occurred to Harry that they were both equally matched and it warmed the tip of his heart to know that neither one was going to be alone. At least for the holidays.

The young Potter shook his head assumingly, "Quite frankly, I was more concerned if you two would get along at all. I guess I couldn't have asked for anything better. I'll admit the article did throw me for a loop at first, I believed someone was taking the mickey out of me over you. But, when a few other players handed me some clippings of you, I concluded that it was true."

Hermione welcomed Harry's comforting smile towards them, feeling her guilt laden shoulders lift their weight. No more burden to be had as far as family was concerned, for the Weasleys' opinion didn't weigh as much as Harry's did. She felt a slight pang over the timing of the holidays. Her new relationship with Sirius did cause a slight hang-up for he and Harry's long coming reunion.

"Are you sure it doesn't bother you, Harry?" Hermione pressed, leaning over the table and reaching to lay her hand on top of his.

"Even if it did, I wouldn't ask you to stop. If it keeps you safe and Sirius is happy, then I can't object to it," Harry explained honestly with a slight hindering on his lips. He'd been selfish tin thinking he'd now have to share his godfather, but in the long run it was worth it knowing that both had what they needed. At least for a little while.

A silent understanding had met the three of them as the taboo settled into dust. No hurt feelings, no insults to friendships or bonds betrayed; nothing more than a nod and a smirk from the centered one. There was so much casualness about it that Harry resumed eating his breakfast, before either one of them got in another request for reassurance.

A sense of serenity soothed Sirius as he leaned back in his chair to observe his godson with pride. The calming energy filled him like a warm bath on worn bones, a strange unfamiliar. The dripping sound of the faucet welcomed him like a long awaited symphony, closing his eyes and feeling a content satisfaction. Curving the side of his mouth into a slight smirk, he unconsciously ran a finger over Hermione's shoulder as he rested his arm around her chair comfortably.

Harry rose from the table to put his dishes in the sink. As he passed, chuckled under his breath and added, "Besides, he's a lot better than the last one."

Hermione felt the blood drain from her face, managing enough to leave her cheeks the color of blush as she glanced over towards Sirius. With a boyish tilt of his chin, his hair fell perfectly align with his features to obstruct his view and she quickly ducked her head to get up and assist Harry with his breakfast dishes.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Before the Order meeting that night, Severus Snape arrived early before anyone else, per Hermione's request. It had been the first time they had seen each other since Severus had witnessed her kiss with Sirius in the hallway. Since that night, so much more had transpired and many things were left unsaid. Their owl exchanges had been strictly business related, with nothing alluding to their more casual relationship.

Feeling empty and unsettled, Hermione felt that she'd have a fair chance to explain things properly to her past love. It only deemed fair to do so, before she unleashed hell and told Sirius everything.

Snape entered the low-lit ancient noble house, taking in its fragrant scent of pureblood and pride. He loathed to step foot into the house, but secretly envied its history. It was no secret that he fought a long inner battle with himself of wanting to be a "whole" wizard and not one possessing a bit of muggle, but he had no other choice. Harry had exposed him, or rather he had confessed his triumph in order to prove himself, thus resulting in one too many discovering his past.

For now, he remained stiff like a statue with his arms folded over his chest, trying to look incredibly inconvenienced.

"Thank you, Severus. I appreciate you coming early so we can talk," Hermione interrupted as she came in from the sitting room.

He spoke quickly. "I am here for the meeting, first and foremost. As much as I hate to draw out any unnecessary comforts, I show my respect before you," Snape mourned, not matching his eyes to her calming brown ones.

For the first time, she saw what damage had been done with not coming clean with Severus earlier. A frigid aura sat between them and it saddened her to feel like all their hard emotional efforts were going wasted.

Realizing that he was not meeting her eyes, she ducked her head away to hide her disappointment and silently requested him to join her on the couch. The very same couch she and Sirius all but nearly forgot themselves during their "study session".

The clock in the room ticked loud and steady, reminding them of the hour and how much time they had before others started to gather at the house. He moved smoothly to the couch, politely removing his robes and folding them over the back of a chair before sitting down.

"I assume your puppy is not home?" Severus lowly drawled.

Hermione did not reply with any smart retort, but remained quiet, concentrated and guilty, "Sirius is out with Harry."

Having Severus there with her was a familiar comfort. One she used to cherish as he always spoke to her as an equal, like an old soul he saw as his match, but now as they sat together like two strangers completely indifferent to one another, she knew that they could no longer be that again. Without a word, she had welled up enough sorrow inside of her for the pain she might have caused him, which a tear started to trickle down her cheek in a silent, but private sob.

Severus sat uncomfortably on the couch, braced for an expedited departure if he didn't wish to continue this conversation he wasn't having with her for the moment. He had come here partly to hear her explain and another to just see her. He had missed her, been lonely without her company and had stayed awake some nights thinking about her in another man's arms. He never staked claim on her for the rest of her life, but he had hoped, prayed, that he had left some mark on her that might draw her to him once again. It was obvious that since she'd decided to part from him, due to this insatiable never-ending war, that she'd willed herself to break from him emotionally, as well.

He knew himself not to be a monster and finally listened to the tiny inner voice in his head that told him to look at her, even just a subtle glance, to show her a glimmer of kindness that she once yearned from him.

To his surprise, he noticed her head ducked low, not looking at him either, but at her hands that were folded neatly on her lap. He saw the single slow tear trailing down her pretty cheek like a ripple in a stream. He swallowed, afraid to approach a civil conversation with her, while she was quietly crying. He wanted to be like they were before, by wrapping his arms around her, the way he did in his private chambers at Hogwarts or at his little house he'd inherited from his parents. But, those times were no more and he was no longer permitted to touch her like he once did. For now, they were only friends.

The tiny voice won and he quietly asked, "Why are you sad, Hermione?"

The sound of his voice saying her name was such a blanket of reassurance, after not hearing it for so long. In the past few months, she'd forgotten what it was like to be around him, hear him, feel him. Everything had been truly against them and it felt like keeping her relationship with Sirius private was just a repeat of what she had to endure with Severus. Her life was private, her personal loves were unknown and sometimes she wished that she'd been courted by fameless men.

"Are you happy with him?" Severus regrettably asked, fighting the urge to take her hand that lay calmly in her lap.

_Yes._ She knew that she had to talk to him about this, for that's the reason she asked him to come early. It was inevitable that she'd have to face the truth of it, like pulling off a band-aid quickly. It was going to sting at first, but eventually the pain would subside.

She nodded her head and looked up. Her face was flushed, now both cheeks moistened by glistening tears and it wasn't like her to show such weakness, but because of her feelings towards him it just brought it out.

"I really wished I told you from the beginning that I was interested in him, before it put me where I am now," she softly confessed. She watched the way his black jacket fit him, with over fifty buttons keeping it tight against his physique.

He appreciated her attempt, but it was he who was in the wrong, "I probably would have reacted the same had you sat me down civilized and told me. Besides, it's nothing that I can be angry with because," he took a breath before continuing, "Because I cannot stay angry with you. That is my weakness."

Her face immediately cringed like he'd just pricked a pin against her arm. He wasn't making this any easier. His dark eyes, his midnight hair, the way his voice melted paint off the walls were all little reasons she fell in love with him in the first place, but it was also for all the reasons they couldn't be together now. He was on both sides and for her to just hide forever was out of the question and it put both of them in a position of vulnerability. Severus had put himself out so much already, and not just for Hermione, that it was a miracle that no one had discovered him sooner.

"My feelings will remain silent to you, but I cannot help but watch anyone that surrounds you without a watchful eye. You know what you mean to me, I've made that abundantly clear several times now, but as you've pointed out we cannot display or continue on."

She nodded, hoping to get at least one word in when she needed to talk.

"I honestly didn't plan this," she gestured around the room to the absent presence of Sirius. "It just did. I found myself wanting something, you, but knew that I couldn't lie to myself and parade on with what couldn't be. Then, I met him."

"You've _known _him," Severus said, narrowing his eyes to something suspicious. He cared about her too much to allow her to be tricked by a love potion, if Sirius had anything to do with it.

"I have known him, yes and all of this was much unexpected, but I won't lie when I say it feels good," she explained, pouring out more than maybe what she should have.

"I don't wish to listen to your activities with Black, Hermione," he drawled.

"And I'm not telling you any details," she corrected. "I am just weary about the two of you knowing about the other."

"You mean," Severus smiled slowly, as if he enjoyed having something over his hated ally, "he doesn't know?"

"No, he doesn't," she said defeated and ashamed.

His moment of bliss was only fleeting as he realized that she honestly hadn't told him that were together, had been lovers, and shared a love he'd never understand. The more it settled in, the more he found himself getting agitated and insulted that it wasn't already discussed and yet, Severus had suffered the immediate pain of discovering them. He kept picturing Sirius holding her in his arms, his hands around her neck and his smug smirk when he greeted him walking in on them outside the kitchen door.

"I know you two don't get along-" she picked up, once again.

"You could say we never saw eye to eye," Severus agreed, looking down at her hands once again as he fought the urge to touch her. He was seething with jealousy like steam escaping from a kettle.

"You and I were more than friends once and I want you to know that nothing will change our history together, Severus," Hermione clarified, reaching out and laying a hand over his gloved ones.

His eyes flicked down at their hands for a moment. Touched by her familiar gesture, but saddened by her tease. He desired her so strongly, that his very skin ached at her touch, even if it was over tight slick leather gloves.

"What you currently share with Black might change. Do you have feelings for him?" Snape asked the million galleon question he cursed himself for, but curiosity had gotten the better of him.

There was no denying it, her eyes told her truth and she nodded, "I do."

Severus felt spiteful for what he was currently enduring and couldn't help but add a thoughtless retort, "He's an Auror now, or will be, sometimes people die in the line of duty."

Like the snap of a rubber band, Hermione snatched her hand away from, her eyes ablaze. Her pulse quickened as her throat dried and her vocal chords couldn't act quickly enough. Her mouth opened as if to say something, preaching the safety measures they followed nowadays, but it was the general stab of taking Sirius away that hurt her. As if he had just shattered everything honest in him that she loved and respected, he tainted it by making that heartless thought. Immediately, being the better person, she gave him the benefit of the doubt since he was bitter over the entire situation. He couldn't help being Snape.

However, it still was not deserved and she raised her chin proudly, "And so could I."

Self-taught genius as he might be with potions, more worldly than some of most political figures in the wizarding world and someone who constantly put his life on the line wouldn't have felt the absolute defeat he did the moment she put a threat against her own life. He hadn't even thought about losing her before his life terminated and when those words were actually spoken, it hit him like a stunning charm in a race.

She looked away, her peripherals noticing Pollux Black sitting in his portrait, eyeing her up and down like she was doing something scandalous against his grandson. She looked away from the portrait defiantly, closing her eyes and collecting her thoughts. The clock continued to tick louder and louder as every sound in the house was magnified in her ears.

Hurt, Severus watched Hermione carefully, studying her just shy of using _Legilimens _on her. She appeared thoughtful, mournful even, and his suspicions couldn't be suppressed.

"Have you been having dreams, Hermione?" he boldly asked

It was no secret that she had developed a power over the years she chose not to practice. Severus had learned that the young witch had dreams that foretold vague details in the future. Not so much that she'd admit, since she never believed in Divination, thus she chose not to discuss them. However, when they were together, Severus had a way of prying some details out of her, hoping to learn something.

Hermione slowly nodded to herself, barely acknowledging her neglected trait.

"You need to listen to them, with whatever they say. You called upon me for some kind of closure or reminder of yourself positioned in my life, and it tells me that your dreams are telling you to do this."

"My dreams cannot be true, Severus. They're just so scattered and some don't make sense, so they couldn't possibly mean anything more-"

"Listen to your dreams, Hermione. I've looked into this and as much as you wish to suppress their secrets and information, you have a gift-"

She shook her head, remaining in denial, "It's not a gift, it's all a bunch of rubbish. You know where I stand on those."

Contrary to what either one of them wish to believe, Hermione predicted moments in her life that indicated their split. Granted, they believed it would never be messy, just inevitable. The taste of paradise, even temporary, was enough to sate them both, but it was apparent that they were not to be life long mates. Not when Hermione told him that she did not see herself dying with him. That person was never clear, but things were starting to make sense, now.

_Hermione sat on his stiff leather divan in his private quarters off from the dungeon. Lately, it was the only place they could get away to be alone, and often it was for long lengthy discussions that took up their entire night. They loved that. But tonight, she visited him with reddened eyes wet from hours of crying. She'd done her best to hold it in, the heaviest of emotions already passing her and this was just the suffering aftermath that forced her to hiccup once in awhile._

"_Hermione, what is it? You're going to have to tell me from the beginning about this dream you had," Snape encouraged, holding her hand and sitting close to her on the divan. His white collar lay open, revealing a small tuft of hair from his chest._

_She smiled under sad eyes as he held her hand so lovingly. It pained her to even come there in the state she was in, but she had to see him, she had to tell him._

"_I won't start from the beginning, Severus, I'll just finish it," she allowed a single tear fall down her face. "You weren't there. I saw a Christmas gathering several years from now and…you weren't there. Maybe it was just a mission you were on, but there was no emotion in me with you being gone and you think there would be for such a holiday," she tried to explain._

"_I got well wishes and heard several saying that it was such a 'perfect holiday,' and more of the typical, 'everyone we've ever wanted to be with…is here,' and I can't see you. Nothing was mentioned of you and that frightens me," she held back sobs trying to spell it all out for him._

"_Hermione, that doesn't mean anything, love. It just meant that I wasn't in the picture for this one. You can't keep basing our relationship on your dreams if you don't believe in them," Severus explained passionately. He never grew tired of her dream discussions; he just got tired of her setting so much into them and then not believing in Divination._

_She nodded her head, but then added, "You just weren't there…and I had," she swallowed a lump in her throat, "I had a wedding ring on, Severus."_

_Severus was silent. Though it had crossed his mind to make her his wife one day, in private, they weren't ready to discuss such serious matters at this time. There would be too much weight on such a marriage, but Severus had no doubt about her being the one he'd want._

"_You would just think that if you were the one whose ring I wore, then you would be in the dream. There would be something said, something noted, even a toast to your absence, but nothing," she shook her head, trying not to admit that though she hated these dreams, some of them panned out to be true._

"_You mustn't do this to yourself, Hermione," he tried again, kissing the back of her hand as if he felt the end was near for them._

"_There was but one thing that didn't make sense in this dream," she sighed for a moment, trying to recollect whether it was true or not. She'd gone over it in her head several times, and none of it made sense._

"_And that was?"_

_She took a deep breath and looked up at her love, "Sirius Black was there."_

The silence between them was unsettling and he tried to rekindle their civil conversation, all tactless comments aside.

"Do your dreams tell you about anything more about the future, that you can tell me? Do you foresee something you don't wish to happen?" he pushed on, seeing in her face that she might have been hiding some things from him relating to that.

She did not flinch. She remained quiet and thoughtful, perhaps thinking of past predictions.

"If you were still with me, we'd continue to have stimulating conversation. I don't doubt that all you and Black talk about are stories about himself and how he cheated death, yet again," he added smugly.

Her interests had wondered off as she allowed him to speak freely, getting more and curter as he went on and then finally back around to Sirius. She understood that he loathed him, was disgusted by the ground he walked on and more, but it was another thing to ramble on about his death right in front of her.

"Severus, stop it! I didn't ask you to come here to discuss him, entirely. I see that you're still stuck on something we can never be," she defiantly stated.

He shook his head, "I never said we could _never _be anything. Eventually, the war will end and you'll have to make a choice."

He was being brutal, tactless and down right cruel. Seeing this side of Severus unsettled her and it was nearly unpredictable. It was true her dreams had occurred quite clearly, like the dream she had about the first time she and Sirius were going to be together, intimately. _That _she never forgot. Did her fate belong to Severus, having Sirius only be a stepping stone or was her destiny written for Sirius all along and his return just made things easier to see? How long had she been neglecting her dreams to not know the key players now?

Hermione's lip was firm and tight. The overwhelming emotion to hug him closely like she used to one last time vacated her nerves abruptly the more his comments continued.

"I mean you no ill, Severus. You and I loved each other once and right now things are different. I only ask that you support me-"

"I won't support your relationship with Sirius Black, so do not ask for my blessing," he confirmed with a stronger voice as if she'd asked him to marry them off.

"-To support me in my decisions. If the war ends, perhaps we'll have something to discuss. However, like you said to me, you may not be there, either," she finished her part clear and complete.

It couldn't have been better timing to break the tension the two ex's had created; the front door to Grimmauld Place swung open with hooligan laughter. Harry burst in first, followed by a laughing-gone-disappointed Sirius. Seeing Hermione quickly standing up from the couch and walking over to greet him was Heaven itself, but it was the company she shared that deflated him faster than a balloon pricked with a pin. Feeling immediate animosity for the man that stood up like a soldier upon seeing the arriving housemates, Sirius grinned arrogantly, forcing good behavior, and kissed Hermione. Harry had run up the stairs to put away some packages he and Sirius had picked up for Christmas only to return to a very awkward moment between the two men, with Hermione in the center.

"How are you, Snape? Isn't there a mortician somewhere missing his girlfriend?" Sirius teased in a voice too familiar to that mean seventeen year old.

_Be polite for her. The dumb dog has no idea, yet._ "I believe in being punctual for meetings," he began, returning the smirk, "When I'm out risking my life for you."

Sirius's smirk fell quickly with the beaten punch and his hand twitched to reach for his wand, but he didn't need to prove himself in his own house. As much as he once despised being indoors to these Noble walls, it was another thing when he shared it with the people that mattered in his life. He could have given a clever retort, but bit his tongue when Hermione tightened her grip on his shirt in such a fashion that reminded him that no matter what game Snape played, he had the upper hand at all costs.

"You'll remain the professor and I'll be the Auror. Unlike you, I won't get holidays off when I'm hunting down your friends," Sirius added and turned to walk upstairs, ignoring whatever else the potions perfect had to say.

Hermione stood there between the two men, refusing to interject, as she still held a slightly angry side towards Severus. Harry had bounced back down the stairs, nodding his greeting to his least favorite professor and grabbing Hermione's arm to drag her into the kitchen to start up some food for the meeting.

Hermione allowed herself to be lead off by her best friend, keeping her eyes on Severus until he was out of view around the corner. She had nothing more to say to him for that night and believed that what was said for the time being will do as the two cooled off from their childish accusations.


	27. The Truth Comes Out

Chapter 27 **- The Truth Comes Out**

_A note from Serade Black: Yes, a chapter so soon! I'm working, I told you! Now, I'm getting comments from my other story regarding language. This is a M+ fic, for me, when I write, the coarse language works. It's my style and no apologies if it doesn't suit you. However, I thank you for reading on._

_This fic is the edited version. To see the un-cut/author's cut of this chapter, please visit my LiveJournal. You do NOT have to be a member to read it and you can access the link from my bio page, here on _

_SB_

Like clockwork, Molly Weasley arrived at Grimmauld Place taking her rightful place in the kitchen to help prepare for the supper after the meeting. It was planned that they were going to have a pre-holiday toast afterwards, in honor for the Order members who were able to be there and another to honor the ones lost in battle. As a joke, Ron had made a comment about where Sirius fit in those toasts, since he played both sides now.

The pots were at a boil both over in the hearth and on top of the stove, kettles were brewing, salads were being seasoned and tossed and Snape and Arthur were discussing the plans for the meeting that was soon to commence. The Order members attending the meeting had started to filter into the kitchen, allowing their taste buds to flourish with the cornucopia of smells wafting around. The tinkering sounds of plates settling and silverware being on their guard allowed enough distraction for Hermione to sneak away unnoticed to take a few minutes for herself and maybe check up on Sirius who otherwise snuck out with Charlie quite a bit ago.

Her head was still slightly spinning after her mild confrontation with Severus, as nothing was said further. They had both gone about their normal Order preparations, pretending that the other did not exist and words need not be spoken between them. It was inevitable that she would have to Sirius about Severus, which she knew; it was just prolonging the unnecessary row that was sure to follow.

Walking down the narrow hallway, Bill and Fleur were just walking in through the front door wrapped in thick coats and scarves, indicating that the weather was probably the coldest it's been so far. A sure indication that winter was not going to be very forgiving this holiday. With friendly hugs and kissing customs, Hermione smiled brightly for them, making a quick comment to Bill about a fresh scar up around his ear.

"Yeah," he touched his ear gently, "Got that one last week. I wish I could set up one of those muggle video camera things and see what I do. I never let Fleur out with me, so she doesn't know, either."

"I told 'im that I would be a'right, but 'e is still afraid ov my safety," she cooed, pinching the cheek with a healed scar.

"Well, his heart is in the right place, Fleur," Hermione smiled and turned to go on her way through the parlor.

"By the way," Bill called back, "Nice article, Granger. Good to see you're not dating any wizards your own age. Otherwise, we'd worry about you."

Hermione whirled around when her name was called, only to return to Bill with a playful slapping match like one does an older brother. Fleur remained an innocent bystander and smiled.

"Oui, ve framed it for ze scrapbook," Fleur added as she quickly hastened her steps towards the family bustling in the kitchen and out of Hermione's arms length.

Hidden by the backdoor of the backyard garden, two figures fidgeted back and forth, trying to dodge the cold weather that was nipping at their bone. Proud of his prize, Sirius sucked on the unlit end of his newly acquired illegal cigar Charlie had managed to procure in a trade from fellow dragon trainers from around the world.

The two men cherished their Diademas shaped, full bodied, leathery tasting cigars as the smoke filled their senses and spirits and a smirk rested over their lips with the luxury. The silence between them was golden, as it usually was when they'd sneak away for their indulgence.

"Cuba, mate? I don't want to know where these were smuggled," Sirius exhaled with a fine whisper. He held out the cigar, admiring its craftsmanship in the faint light between them.

Charlie gave a light cough, indicating that he'd taken too much of a puff of the strong cigar, denying any shadiness in their smuggling. "Not where you think, Sirius. No worries. Although, you're going to reek for the next few hours, so I hope your witch doesn't mind."

With the cigar to his lips, Sirius raised his eyebrows as he nodded to his long time, secret cigar smoking friend. He waited till the smoke cleared the crisp chilled air between them, taking pleasure in the spicy euphoria.

"No, she's fine. Not so much the prude I thought she was," he admitted, smiling fondly as the picture of her in her Gryffindor uniform came to mind.

"I have to tell you, mate, that was incredibly unexpected," Charlie said, observing the length of his ash and then tapping it with his forefinger. "I'll admit that I thought about her, but she had a thing with my brother and it just didn't feel right. But you, I never would have thought of the two of you actually seeing eye to eye about anything, let alone…well, what you are."

Sirius chuckled, appreciating his tact, and puffed on his cigar like Groucho Marx, "It makes arguing so much more fun, now."

Charlie smiled in the darkness, licking his lips from the tasty residue. He glanced up at the moon that was nearly full and figured in the next few nights, both Remus and his own brother would be out on the prowl to howl and hunt.

"Can I ask, man to man," Charlie started, breaking their respected silence. "Are you two just playing around, or are you sincere?"

Sirius was quiet for a moment, thinking out the appropriate answer. He didn't want to lie to himself and he certainly didn't wish for something to be misunderstood, so he carefully thought out his reply.

"I'm not the same person I was when I was twenty-one that I know. My brain is still fried from being lost for so long, that I'm not sure if I'd know a good thing if it hit me," he quietly explained. "Knowing her, the new her, the older her, has disciplined me enough to not want to look at other witches. So, I guess I'm saying that for however long this lasts, I'm going to try real hard to be good."

Charlie gave a light nod, acknowledging his explanation. He'd known Hermione for a good while now, even through his brother's admiration for her, and slightly drifted into that "older brother" mode from time to time for her. It was good to know that Sirius's intentions, though he'd grown soft over the years, were honest.

"Otherwise, you've got other problems from other wizards to worry about if you hurt her, mate."

Sirius waved his comment away, "Harry's fine about it."

"No, not Harry, mate," Charlie started, before he had to dodge the flying backdoor from hitting him in the back of the head.

The bright brunette popped her head around the corner of the door to catch the men like two children nicking cigarettes. "There you are! Hi Charlie, more stolen cigars?"

"Traded, Hermione. Not stolen," Charlie corrected, sticking his cigar in his teeth defiantly.

Tough as he may talk, Sirius quickly hid his cigar behind his back, stifling smoke that couldn't help but escape from his lips like a cartoon. Finally, her smirk let on that she wasn't that easily fooled and he exhaled the residual smoke like someone had taken all the oxygen from him.

As he feigned a painful suffocation, Hermione showed no mercy when she scolded him. "Sirius Black, don't you feed into what Charlie brings into this house!"

She turned her blame for her boyfriend's potential death on Charlie and pointed a stern finger at him, "Charles Weasley, don't make me go downstairs and drag your mother up here to see what you're doing."

He showed no sign of fear and arrogantly puffed away on his Cuban, making small circles with his lips, "Hermione, I'm a grown man and I'm not afraid of what my mother would threaten me with."

She never won arguments with Charlie, because he always had this laid back you-can't-threaten-me-with-anything attitude that frustrated her to no end. Sirius, however, she had leverage with, but she felt that he deserved to do what he wanted since it was his first holiday back.

Feeling the chill seeping through her clothes she quickly shut the back garden door and dashed upstairs to her room to put on another sweater. Coming down the stairs softly, and not like the herd the men in the house pretended to be, she tied the sweater tight around her form. Upon reaching the last stair, she heard light shuffling from the study around the corner passed the parlor. She ventured on through; the floorboards underneath creaking beneath her steps, to come across the silhouette of Sirius pulling out drawers from the ancient desk that still remained in the same place.

Plucked from the pages of royalty, he stood proud and determined as he rustled through papers and hidden alcoves of the desk. Far from the t-shirt and jeans he normally wore, he was dressed in fine wool slacks, a black button up shirt, burgundy vest and black embroidered coat that fell to his knees. Though he hated to admit his lineage of the purebloods, he sure was a beautiful one.

Feeling slightly underdressed, she gave herself a mental shake and interrupted his search to inquire on what he was doing. Not looking up he continued to open a few drawers, frown, think and then open another one.

"Just looking for something that I thought…was….in…here," he said upon disappointment and closed the drawer. "No matter, I'm sure Kreacher tossed it with all the other things that I hated, but now want to find."

He stepped away from the desk and gave all his attention to her. He tilted his head to the side as if to admire her like a work of art sculpted for his enjoyment. Her thick wavy hair, nearly in curls, fell over her shoulders like Lady Godiva around a perfect face. Lips perfectly pink, her cheeks gently rouged, her eyes darkened with charcoal and eyelashes that went on forever, he was hypnotized. To know her inquisitive, thoughtful mind, was enough to just thank Merlin that you shared company with her.

Sirius tuned into her mental distraction, having made a note of it from the time he got home. She seemed deep in thought, distant even, over something that plagued her. He didn't like it when his witch was so intense, he preferred her more carefree nature, the more lively character she claimed to be when she was with him.

He rested a hand around her cheek and lifted her chin, "You a'right? You seem a little preoccupied."

She appreciated his concern and cherished the touch of his hand on her skin, but she shook her head. Looking so handsome, like a Christmas present just for her, she just wanted to admire him, not stir any ill thoughts up right now. It would all have to wait.

Giving off a light smile, her lips curving just enough to convince him, "I'm fine, no worries."

He leaned in, closing the distance between their lips after whispering, "Yes, love, you're quite fine."

Her hands unfolded from against her chest and slid up the front of his expensive jacket to the lapels where she gripped them, pulling him close. She couldn't resist his charm and smiled into his kiss. Thoughts of Severus escaped her mind as Sirius drank into her like a man in a desert, dying of thirst. No off-color comments about Sirius throwing himself back into the trenches of death, no more self-doubt that she was making a ridiculous choice and no more past memories of her and Severus together to cloud the mental plans she was making for her Azkaban prisoner that wrapped his arms around her tighter than a straight jacket.

His tongue invaded her mouth possessively as he felt her young body press against his with dire need and unforgiving lust. Her lips felt like a soft peach as he lapped them gently, committing them to the memory of the night before Christmas Eve where he shamelessly made out with her there in the shadows of his father's old study. Books centuries old were their only prying eyes, having riveting tales of their own inside, only the portraits watching them would be able to tell their story.

0o0o0o0o0

Standing proud, Snape began the Order meeting next to Arthur. Updating all its present members with the latest activities from Voldemort's followers, it seemed that no matter how quickly they acted they were always outnumbered - or were they. Still so many "closet" Order members stayed quiet in their houses, posing no threat but secretly helping in their own way.

Further into discussing a major plan the Dark Lord had, Snape stood smug and proud, reeking of hero as he explained. "The safest spot for the Dark Lord to return to, to be used as a meeting place with other Death Eaters, has been to somewhere only muggle-known. It seems that several new members have joined him, wizards that once stood as strong members of society are meeting him and pledging their loyalties. The location may sound cliché' but it serves its purpose."

"…and that would be?" Ginny asked. Her ex-professor's lengthy descriptions were never a favorite of hers and she appeared otherwise bored.

Snape scowled to the youngest Weasley, sneering at the fact that he had to be civil since she been a particular good friend to Hermione's through all their years. He fought the urge to hex her silent for the time being.

"An abandoned warehouse," he replied with narrow eyebrows.

"That's original," Sirius barked, almost finding it too amusing not to comment on.

"Again, I add that it sounded a bit too cliché', but it serves its purpose," Snape repeated with a low ill voice. His eyes averted to the ceiling when he was forced to see his ex-love sitting next to the puppy. It made his stomach churn.

Hermione cleared her throat, breaking the tension, "So, are we going to set up a raid from the Ministry? Would it be that simple?"

"Perhaps," Kingsley began. "But, this needs to be split up between units if we're going to challenge this. I'll get back to Robards and have him start preparing teams, if it comes to this." It was the normal protocol with Snape's updates.

"Well, bring it on!" Sirius announced, resting an arm around the back of Hermione's chair. "I'm dying to say hello to some family."

Sitting across from the only person that presented to be a father to him, Harry smiled for his godfather. However, it was a fleeting one. He didn't like the idea of Sirius going back out there, again. Not after he had just returned from beyond. Perhaps now as things may have settled and he'd been kissed with a new life, he won't be so rash with his decisions. At least it was good to have his spirit back within.

Hermione looked over at Sirius with heavy concern in her eyes. His comment had also unsettled her, for she didn't wish to lose him to Bellatrix a second time. Sirius picked up on her uneasiness and immediately moved his hand from behind his chair to the hands on her lap. He ducked his head privately and whispered something sweet into her ear that made her nod.

Across the table, next to Harry, Ron sat and watched their interaction, while lightly shaking his head and leaning closer to his best friend, "Never saw that one coming, mate. Still a bit odd to get used to."

Harry's concentration of worry was interrupted by Ron's observation. He followed Ron's eye line back to the couple sitting before them. He hadn't any issues with it, really. If anything, he thought Sirius to be quite the gentleman around Hermione. Always checking on her condition if she was comfortable, always allowing her to speak freely and always taking the time to just look at her when no one else was in the room. He saw a genuine affection between the two sitting across the table from him, but not the loathing mushy kind. It was more of a mutual respect between two adults who enjoyed each other's company. Harry watched the way Sirius put his free hand around her shoulder as he whispered a comments privately in her ear from time to time, causing her to nod and whisper back. If anything, he and Ron could learn a thing or two about this "old fashioned" courtship.

"Think she's happy?" Ron whispered to Harry. He slumped in his chair, half listening to Snape ramble on, watching the way Sirius and Hermione interacted.

Harry lightly nodded, "I really don't think she's unhappy, mate. Seamus said he heard them in the downstairs loo."

Still entranced with the interaction between his best friend and Harry's godfather, Ron replied, "Perhaps I need to find an older woman"

For that, Harry cringed with a chuckle, before being scolded by Molly for not paying attention. A swift slap on the back of both their heads and the two young friends were bright-eyed back on Snape as he continued with his boring details.

0O0O0

The sounds of a proper family holiday dinner filled Sirius's ears like a delightful symphony. The twins carried on business conversation with their older brothers, Ginny, Harry and Fleur spoke of French holiday customs, Seamus bragged to Ron about how many Guinness he could drink in one hour, the Weasleys made small chatter and the rest of the Order members had finished dinner and were already helping themselves to the Christmas pudding. Fred had just dimmed the lights after George poured the brandy over it, but as everyone suspected they traditionally covered their faces incase the twins had something larger than a small flame to set alight the dessert.

Hermione glanced over and noticed Sirius quietly grinning as he buttered a roll, nodding his head slowly as if taking it all in. She laid her fork down and slipped a hand under the table to squeeze his thigh, getting his attention.

Looking over at her, he didn't need to say anything, but appreciated her gesture. It was comforting to know she was close and generally concerned for his well-being. He hadn't felt this kind of contentment since his last Christmas with Potters, when baby Harry was no more than an infant crawling around on the floor and pulling shoelaces under the table.

"You good?" she whispered to him, leaving her hand on his thigh.

He gave her a wink and whispered, "I'm real good."

Snape nursed a brandy he had poured for himself, while the rest of the lot trickled into the parlor to relax after the large meal. Not normally their tradition, but since it was a festive time of year in dark times, the Order felt a more social evening for the toast was necessary for those spending the holidays with family members. Harry made the rounds as he caught up with everyone, trying to store up on as much "familiarity" he could before returning to his quidditch tour.

Arthur had charmed the record player to play some festive music, while Charlie threw some logs into the fireplace. With eggnog and drinks in hand, Bill tapped a spoon against his Guinness bottle to gain everyone's attention.

"Mum, thanks for a splendid dinner," Bill started as a few added their appreciation. "Though our numbers have fluctuated these past years, those leaving us both naturally and unnaturally," he raised his glass in the air for everyone to follow, "And those that have joined us and remained with us through the years."

Everyone raised their glass together and said, "Chin, chin!"

"Then there are the select few who leave us, but miraculously come back to haunt us," Ginny announced, raising her glass to Sirius. "Welcome back, Sirius!"

"Welcome back!" the room declared, all eyes on Sirius who smiled wider than a mouth model.

"Thanks all! To show my appreciation, I'm off to make a stronger drink!" Sirius thanked and left Hermione's side to attend to the house bar.

Severus stood back in the shadowed corners of Grimmauld Place that festive evening, showing respect to his fellow Order members and the grateful holiday around them. He much preferred to stay home in his own quarters back at Hogwarts, looking over the children that remained there for holiday break than to pretend joy here in the once-shabby mansion of the Noble House of Black. But, he did it for her.

Before they had ended so heatedly, she had asked him to stay with the group after dinner to toast those here and those that have passed. Unfortunately, he came to witness the very thing he absolutely detested: her otherwise affection for Sirius Black. He'd watched the way she'd look at him from afar, carefully gazing onto him like some kind of Greek God about to worship her. By invading Black's mind, not hers, he'd already seen that he'd bed her and how happy she appeared to be. Though a hideous sight to endure, he could not help but wonder if she reacted the same with him, as she did with himself. The answer to that: no.

Snape absolutely loathed Sirius Black. As much as they "played" allies rather well, when it came to sharing possessions, it was not an easy do. Of course, Hermione had long since not been his, nor was she ever determined to be property. It was the sickening drunk admiration his childhood enemy had for someone that once made him feel more complete than he had in several years.

Hermione had a different way of seeing and treating Sirius. Respect, yes, she'd always shown that to her beaus but it was the attention and study she would give them, like she was trying to see if and where they would place in her future. She appeared to be genuinely happy, showing no slack of admiration for the puppy. This saddened Snape, as he hoped, prayed, to see some flaw between them.

Unfortunately, there was something Sirius had that Snape didn't. Youth. Having been away in his black abyss, it had frozen his time by six years, leaving him to pick up back on the age of thirty-six. Granted, it was only six years, but it still made the difference of sharing your life with someone in their thirties, rather than someone in their forties.

Snape studied the way Sirius watched her in return. When deep in conversation as she stood at the bar talking to a Weasley, he was easily distracted when Hermione was in his sightlines. Like a possessive animal, it was obvious he meant no harm to her, but hungrily desired her affection. Sirius only saw her when the room was full of people, not allowing anyone to distract him; he was drawn to her like a moth to a fiery flame.

How Snape detested him.

Snape watched as the arrogant Dog Star slowly strolled around the room, passing him and not showing any regard. His pulse quickened and his upper lip curled with dripping jealousy as he viewed the room like a stage, constantly drawing attention to himself. How ignorant he was to her past. She keeping him in the dark all this time where just tell him.

Snape's scowl slowly turned into a mischievous smirk.

"You don't hide your affections very well, Black. You show your weakness for her," Snape slurred with low hatred.

Sirius sneered slightly as he realized Snape was talking to him and the last thing he wished for this night was to carry any kind of conversation with the traitor.

"My weakness isn't for anything miniscule. I have the ability to experience so much more intense emotions than you ever will be given the time for," Sirius snipped, sipping firewhisky carefully while his eyes remained on his witch talking to Ginny.

"She's grown to be quite beautiful, hasn't she?" Snape lowly commented, as if chanting a quiet spell.

Sirius saw no reason to object to such a compliment about Hermione and nodded briefly, "That she has." He turned to glance back at Snape whose eyes were narrow on him like one enjoys provoking a hornet's next. Not sensing anymore hostility than normal, he added, "I'm amazed that we see eye-to-eye on that matter."

"Well, anyone that knew her…intimately…would notice it."

Snape's last comment was him poking the nest with a stick and watching it start to stir. Sirius saw no reason to turn around for a second glance, but was slightly unsettled that he was speaking of his angel with such a free tongue.

"That they would," Sirius concluded.

Snape sensed his uneasiness and knew that one more sentence would send him over and he'd finally see the truth that was hidden from him. Snape's upper lip curled, "…and make a note. That mark on her upper inner thigh isn't a birthmark, but a scar from when she fought in the Ministry six years ago."

Sirius jerked his head back to his long time foe, "Why would you…"

"Know this? I don't know, perhaps because…I've been there before?" he confirmed with a slight smirk.

Sirius paled as the thickening words sunk in with such detestation. Anger started to rise up through his veins like Remus in the middle of his transformation.

"You son of a-" Sirius barked and dropped his glass, whipping his wand out quicker to the eye than Snape could notice.

Snape showed no intimidation, but felt immediately empowered, "Yes Black, finally something I got to first, before you. Remember you're getting my seconds…"

From across the room, Hermione heard Sirius's voice carrying and immediately turned towards the sound. Ginny gasped as she saw what was transpiring between the two wizards, with Sirius showing no fear as he prepared to duel against the dark billowing robes.

Hermione rushed through the people in the parlor to get between the two men, but Remus had already headed her off to intervene and pull Sirius away from the altercation.

"How dare you touch her!" Sirius yelled maddened.

"Sirius, calm down!" Remus held his best friend back, tightening his grip around his shoulders so that his flailing arms wouldn't punch him. "It wasn't that long ago, he didn't do it when she was in school! You're being irrational!"

Snape felt content to just refrain from any ridiculous scene and used wit instead, "Jumping to conclusions as usual. The coward who couldn't turn down a fight went and got himself wrapped up for death. How responsible was that?"

"You pathetic excuse for a wizard! She must have been desperate!" Sirius spat, his face flushed and red like a kettle boiling over.

If this tale stood to be true, it sickened Sirius to the state of repulsion. The man who had showed loyalty to why James and Lily were dead had been intimate to the first person that made him feel whole. As if Sirius were harboring every negative thought he'd had to walk on eggshells for, it erupted from him like a spontaneous volcano when it was personal to him. The phrase "history repeating itself" played over and over in his mind as he pictured no one else, but Lily Evans.

"It's Lily all over again, isn't it?" Sirius shouted as Remus pulled him back like a hostile criminal.

Hermione finally stepped in, having just arrived to hear Lily's name against her own. She attempted the noble thing to pull his wand arm down so it wasn't directly aimed at Snape, saving him from any irrational actions.

"Sirius, stop it!" she shouted in vain. Sirius was too focused and it frightened her to see such hatred and hurt in his face.

"Watched her from afar? Waited for a good time to swoop in and try and keep her for yourself, did you? Couldn't let Lily go and so you sought out a replacement?" Sirius's words carried over the room like a quidditch score and everyone was drawn to the scene.

"Bite your tongue, Black. Leave Lily out of it, it has nothing to do with-" Snape croaked, his brow dangerously low and his wand hand twitching.

Sirius smiled big that he had struck a nerve. He paid no attention to Hermione who tried sternly to redirect his attention from what might become a horrific scene if not controlled.

"Why not? She's just like Lily, in so many ways! Couldn't stand the girl taking the better man, could you? You sour repulsive-"

"Sirius Black! Stop it, now! I refuse to allow you to continue," Hermione hollered at the top of her lungs, absolutely embarrassed.

Sirius's eyes were still focused like an animal ready to strike on its enemy. His voice dropped dangerously calm, anger seething through his pours, "He started it."

A moment passed and his temper was up again and so was his volume, "Going on and on…and why didn't you tell me?" Sirius demanded, his terrifying eyes on Hermione, now.

Hermione's lips parted, awestruck and stunned, and worst of all, without words. He just stared at her, through her like a stranger, like he'd never set eyes on her before.

Order members still in the room watched the altercation between the wizards and witch carefully, ready to defend, but unsure who to stand up for. Ginny went to Harry's side, once she heard his mother's name draw his attention. Arthur and Ron had just come in, once the shouting had began, but once Ron saw it had something to do with Snape, he shrugged his shoulders and went back to the buffet to make another sandwich.

"I'm sorely disappointed that you haven't told him about our past…affair, Miss Granger," Snape said with his low drawled voice. He was solemnly elated with having issued such a painful blow to one so ignorant. Sirius needed to know and Hermione should have told him.

"Severus, this is not the time," Hermione hushed, incredibly embarrassed by the scene.

"Yes, please let me know when it is, Hermione," Sirius declared, his voice frustrated and spent.

His eyes bore into her like she was now the enemy. Any love or admiration that had once channeled through him was vacant in his stare. For the first time ever, she saw the person that was being restrained in the "Wanted" posters.


	28. Those that Love us, Never Really Leave

-1_A note from Serade Black:__ So, we're getting much deeper into it. I won't give too much away about the ending, but if you've read Deathly Hallows, you'll see slight similarities. But, not to worry for those that haven't read it - I'm not spoiling it. I'm glad you all are into this and I LOVE reading the detailed reviews about what you enjoy (and what you don't). I, for one, love to bring out some familiar characters now and then like Charlie, Rosmerta, Bill… sometimes they just add a little bit of depth to the HP world when writing fan fiction around them._

_Keep on reading, you'll see how the fight ends and where they start to go after this._

_SB_

Chapter 28

**Those that Love us, Never really Leave us**

The room was so silent; you could hear a pin drop. Everyone held their breath as they waited for Hermione to speak. All eyes were on the three of them, mostly just Hermione. This was Severus Snape's moment to smile. He'd shattered Sirius to the brink of breakdown and it was then that Hermione was truly going to see what she had gotten herself into. She'd started a relationship with a ticking time bomb, in front of everyone.

Hermione's eyes widened, not wanting to discuss anymore of her personal life in front of so many onlookers and co-workers. Most importantly, Harry. She did not want Harry to see his godfather all strung out, due to his best friend. She was strongly in error by not discussing this with Sirius first and foremost, but the time never seemed to present itself worthy of a row that may or may not be necessary.

"I'm not going to talk about this, right here, Sirius," she said in a stage whisper. Her heart was racing.

"Fine! In the kitchen!" he announced, yanking his arms away from Remus and stomping out of the room like a man about to explode.

Hermione felt her face warming and she looked around the room nervously to all the many faces who weren't expecting such a show the night before Christmas Eve. She swallowed and settled her eyes on Severus. His lips were thin, stern, and he flashed a hint of a smirk. She stared at him for what felt like hours the few seconds she kept her eyes on him. She was hurt, betrayed and most of all disappointed. The silence between them was enough for everyone in the room to understand what was transpiring.

Her eyes were cold as steel and they narrowed in on Severus. With no other words to say, she whispered, "I trusted you." She spun around, her hair flying around her and bouncing lightly against her back, she was gone from the room.

If Snape could have sunk into the floorboards, he would have. He did not intend on feeling as tall as a mouse over the blow-out, just feel a little bit of revenge as he got back at the arrogant one. The fact that Hermione had gotten hurt in the mix was not part of his pathetic minuscule plan. He only wanted to shake Sirius up, not possibly destroy the bond he and Hermione had shared. With all eyes on him now, he set down his drink and removed himself from the room and the house with dignity and silence.

The remaining Order members in the room looked about one another, wondering if they were insincere to say anything. Without fail, George spoke up.

"Enough of that drama, it's Christmas!"

The room started to slowly smile as they looked about each other, trying to see the joy peeking between the tension. True, it was Christmas and no holiday would be complete without the obligatory row amongst family members or loved ones. In a few minutes, the drinks were back in hands, the wands were put away and the music continued to play on as the evening grew more and more festive, trying to pick up on the mood it once had, before Snape opened up his bitter mouth.

The kitchen had cleared out and Sirius stomped down the stairs like a bear, going right to the cabinet where he kept his extra fire whisky. Slamming down a glass left over from dinner, he poured it halfway full and took a deep chug from the amber contents that were his one-time salvation. His very skin crawled, he felt nauseous, he was hurt and his emotions were running away from him faster than the Hogwarts express going downhill.

He heard her follow behind him, having committed the sound of her angelic steps to memory. He pulled out his wand and waved it about the room casting, _Silencio._

Once the door had closed completely behind her, he spun around and immediately went into his rant, "How could you…why him? Oh, Merlin's Beard that has got to be the most…" he shook his body as if he was still absolutely sickened and was trying to shake out the "cooties". "I kind of wondered when you went out with that pumpkin head, Krum, but this one…"

"Sirius, don't."

Like a lion teasing its prey, he held his glass tight in his hand and walked around her standing in the middle of the kitchen.

"Did you sleep with him?" His voice was pained and desperate, as if it was the only thing he could see through that might make a difference if the answer wasn't so obvious.

"Of course, we were together for-" she started to defend, but was quickly cut off.

Like a pistol, he went off, "You actually had sex with that-"

"Don't you dare speak about him like that! You weren't even around, so it's not like I cheated!" she yelled out of frustration.

"Did everyone else know? Did Harry know?" he demanded, as if the idea just came to him. "Everyone out there right now, knew you went out with that git and didn't say a word? I was the last one to _fucking _know?"

She held her hands up to try and touch him, in order to calm him down. She knew she had been in the wrong by prolonging the truth from him for so long. Just as she was about to lay a hand on him, he pulled away like a stubborn child irritated with her presence.

"Sirius, I was afraid to tell you sooner, I didn't want you to be angry," she tried to explain.

"I would have promised _not _to get angry, but I didn't promise I wouldn't be repulsed!" he started to stutter like a fish gasping for water. He still seemed to be having a hard time getting his head around the visuals. "I think what hurts me more, is that you waited so long to tell me _and _I had to hear it from _him._"

His face fell in his hands as they rubbed hard, trying to erase the idea that she and him were….

"Hermione, you must have been desperate to turn to him," Sirius cruelly jabbed, taking another drink from his tall glass. He tried to see humor in this situation.

Like a pin prick, his comment made her flinch. He chuckled like the devil drunk on irony and she saw the cruel person deep down in his skin. She raised her chin high and took a defiant step closer as he set down his glass to lean against the counter. She took a deep breath to fill her lungs with strength and she slapped him with a stiff hand across the cheek.

He didn't flinch. He only stared; he was stone cold.

With a raspy whisper she clarified, "I was never desperate. How dare you say that to me."

The sting of her slap started to settle in and he felt the pain passing over him. He showed no change, remained as still and stern as a statue, unmoved. He returned her raspy, exhausted whisper, "You should have told me you were with him."

Both of them believed themselves to be in the right. Neither was going to win this argument, because they were too much alike when it came to being stubborn.

"Why? Would it have made any difference if I did? Would you not have taken all this time with me? Kissed me? Fucked me-"

As she went on, he circled her as she spoke, like a shark around its target, but her last words were insulting, "Did you love him?"

The air in the room stilled and the sound was like being in a padded cell. Nothingness surrounded them as kindness and consideration had vacated their emotions. Hermione stared strong, showing no sympathy from her slap and no weakness from being broken down. However, with a quivering lip as his eyes bore into her like the manic killer of insanity he was once known for, she still could not lie to him. Instead, he broke her down and she finally closed her eyes to relieve herself of the glare and dropped her head to display unnecessary shame.

As if he was touched with fire, Sirius backed off and roared in the kitchen like an outraged lion. He slammed his glass down on the table and it shattered upon impact. The glass shards fell to the floor, his hand might have been bleeding, but he still turned away from her and ran nervous hands through his black hair. He found himself slipping into denial; she could never love someone like Severus Snape.

Sirius loathed the name; he despised the thought of the greasy git kissing the same areas he loved. The childhood enemy, that as adults was the first one to want to take him to the Dementors wrapped in a perfect bow so he could watch him die. How could Hermione, the girl he was focusing all his affections on, love a man like that? Like a stake through the heart, Sirius felt like the fallen vampire.

All their shouting, their arguing, the pointless fight of her past had started to simmer down like an orchestra just coming down from a crescendo. The voices were subsiding, the kitchen sounds were nearly settling and all that came forward was the realization that she _had _been with him and nothing could change it.

Slowly and quietly, the words started to leave his lips like the storm had cleared and the sun was showing its rays, "Of course you did. Of course you _do_."

Hermione's face cringed with sudden sadness that he was beginning to read it wrong, "No, not anymore Sirius."

Sirius nodded his head, as if everything just became clear to him. As if all was cloudy around them these few months and the sun was just coming into the clear to shine light on the very truth she tried so hard to hide. He felt empty, soulless, lost.

"No, you do love him. You did once, so what part of you just turned it off? I should have seen it the whole time. You still visit him, you write him letters," his pacing started up again and he circled around the room like a madman rambling on. "You defend him at all the meetings! How could I have been so bloody blind? It's always been there and that's why you wouldn't let me in, sooner!"

Hermione shook her head, tears welled up in her eyes and they were slowly beginning to trail down her cheeks. He was horribly misunderstanding the situation and she wasn't sure how to get them out of it. It was like he didn't even hear her voice when she tried to speak. He'd shut her out, already.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner Hermione, instead of letting it go on for so long like this? We could have avoided so much torment if you'd just told me upfront!" he concluded, pacing closer and closer to the kitchen door.

"Sirius, you wouldn't have understood then," she whispered.

"Understood, then? How about now? I may loathe that man, Hermione, but I can see it in him – he still loves you," Sirius felt a lump in his throat begin to tighten. He ran his hands over his face, feeling the tingling from the fire whisky and started up the kitchen stairs to leave. "Now, either you need to make a choice, or I've wasted my time!"

"I'm just a waste of time? You're cruel, Sirius, because all you did was fuck me," she choked out. Steady tears slowly streamed down her cheek. She felt her stomach twisting in knots, enough to make her bottom lip tremble on the brink of a heavy cry.

"You and I have been at this for months, now. We did everything that was expected, the entire wizarding world knows about us, I risked my relationship with the closest thing I have to a son for you. So, no Hermione, I believe it's _you _who fucked _me_!"

The silencing spell lifted from the kitchen around her the second he stepped foot out of the room. The natural sounds of the house settling above her were like vibrating cymbals in her ears as she started to crumble into a heap on the floor. The front door of Grimmauld Place slammed shut of his departure and she felt the walls beginning to cave in around her. She was alone.

Thankfully, no one in the house came in to check on her. She needed this solo time to think about what had just transpired in the last ten minutes. Her heart felt like someone had pulled the seams out of it, seeing as it was only held together temporary, anyone could have easily damaged it. She hadn't felt that concrete comfort with Sirius yet. The euphoric feeling that all was going to be well and good and she could finally start thinking of a future. However, he shot off like a loose cannon, Snape had predicted that much, over the subject matter. But, what troubled Sirius the most was his suspicions that she was still in love with his loathed ally.

Was it a possibility she could still be in love with Severus Snape? Was that the reason why she wanted to protect the men from each other so badly? For now, her heart was broken over both men having hurt her. She didn't ask to be put in this situation, she didn't want to feel like the one she trusted and the one she felt deeply for would just bottom out from under her. Perhaps she should just suck it all up and just pay attention to her dreams, for they seemed to be the only constant thing in her life. Perhaps if she'd been listening to them from the beginning, she wouldn't be silently crying by herself now.

0o0o0o0

Several hours later, the house was cleared out, allowing its occupants some solitude and privacy should Sirius come home that night. Remus had gone over to stay with Tonks and Harry had decided to spend the night with Ginny.

The old house felt cold and empty, like a stranger. She'd lived there since Hogwarts, keeping it tidy, clean and turning it into a loving home for Harry when he returned from quidditch tours. But, now the old mansion felt like it did when she was fifteen. Like it hid secrets she'd never know for it was dark, cold and lonely, even with the portraits bustling about over the latest drama in the foyer.

Whispers carried from frame to frame, sounding like an army of mice all around her, each one adding a new dimension to the story. The walls had eyes when she looked over her shoulder towards the front door, hoping that Sirius would blow through it and sweep her up with his loving arms. When only the shadows were her true company, Hermione sulked deeper into her seclusion

Hermione didn't dare go out into the cold new winter to look for him; she wouldn't have known where to start. Instead, she made herself a cup of chamomile tea, something to sooth her tension, and returned to the couch where she was studying her book of spells for her Auror testing. Unfortunately, her mind was in too much disarray as she sat there on the couch alone in the dim lighting. She silently sipped her tea, listening to number twelve Grimmauld Place settling for the night.

Unconsciously, she pulled a blanket over her legs as she yearned for some comfort her in mental prison. Her legs curled up underneath her, her eyes began to get heavier and heavier as she hugged what was left in her tea cup and she slowly drifted off.

Her heart hurt more when she thought about going upstairs to her lonely bed, because she didn't feel right going into Sirius's room just for his smell. Instead, the worried and concerned side of her would remain down on the first floor, waiting to know that he'd come home. She was sure that if he was out this long, whenever he managed to stagger home, he'd make an entrance; there would be no missing him.

The age old grandfather clock ticked away the midnight hours. The portraits had long since retired and around three in the morning, over an hour after last call, Sirius abruptly came back into the house. He appeared to have not been ridiculously drunk, but spent the last five hours nursing three beers. His steady walk told the story of a man more concerned of his personal life, than about actually losing the memory of it to alcohol.

He pushed through the threshold of his childhood home and went right to the stairs to go up to his bedroom, hoping to find that he wouldn't be alone. He'd done some deep thinking during his beer-nursing, having blown off a couple of offered dates, for all he could think of was what he was going to be coming home to. _His Hermione._

His hand reached for the banister, still feeling a big overwhelmed and groggy at the mercy of those three beers and hoisted himself up the first stair. His concentration was broken by a familiar cough and he looked to his right. The portrait of his grandfather who feigned sleep had gotten his attention and pointed behind his grandson into the parlor. Sirius stepped back down from the first step to peer into the room he'd left disgruntled, to see the heavenly vision waiting up for him, tucked under a velvet throw.

Sirius's eyes focused on the slumbering beauty. He hated to disrupt her, but deemed it necessary under the circumstances. He took a few more quiet steps towards her and then quietly spoke her name as he hung his head low.

Hermione had only been sleeping light, but managed the beginnings of a proper dream sequence that she didn't quite finish.

_A tiny little boy, nearly a year, played quietly with what appeared to be building blocks that moved themselves. He was fascinated by the way they would move magically the second he set them on top of one another. The raven haired boy smiled, looking up towards a voice that was calling him as a tall man entered the room…_

It was hard to hear what was being whispered, but she thinks she heard the small boy's name.

Hermione's eyes fluttered as she left her dream. Through low lashes she saw a shadowed figure of a man standing before her in front of the divan she slept on. Making out that it was Sirius, Hermione slowly lifted herself up from the sleeping position to better see him.

A breath of relief that he was safe left her lips as she watched him carefully. He appeared relaxed, exhausted even, with his hands in this pockets and his head bowed so low his hair covered his face. He smelled like a pub, with the surrounding aura of cigarette smoke and booze as there was no second guessing where he'd been. Most noticeable of all…he was still standing.

She moved slowly like one trying to approach a timid animal. Hesitant, she was wary that he might raise his voice and pick up where he left off. She waited to hear his voice thundering through the house like an angry bear. She waited for the portraits to awaken to more yelling.

Instead, his body language and lack of intensity told her the story of a man who was quietly upset within. He didn't appear stable as he stood on his two feet, but driven by the slight madness of what he'd been going over and over in his mind all evening long. His jaw was tense, his eyes focused on the carpet and it looked like he was slightly shaking from a deep chill.

Hermione sat on the edge of the sofa. Placed in a position to both catch him if he fell or bolt in another direction should he physically lash out at her.

Her voice to him was a silent as a shouting mouse, but he managed to hear it speak to him from the back of his mind.

"Are you okay, Sirius?" She asked, genuinely concerned, but handling him like a loaded pistol.

Sirius's face winced with guilt over how unprepared he truly was for this moment. Nervously, he started to bounce from one leg to the next, pulling his hands out of pockets and shrugging off his coat. It was like he'd prepared a long speech, but when the moment came, his mind was a blank canvas all over again. He ran his hands over his face to clear his mind and refrained from obvious fidgeting and pacing.

Finally, he spoke, "Yes, I am…"

Still unable to read him clearly, she bit her lip and asked him, "Sirius, are you drunk?

He shook his head violently, like a drug addict being deprived of his necessity.

"No! Yes, I mean, I should be, it's just…" he tried to start.

His lack of a completed sentence moved faster than his mind could comprehend. He was like an angry mime, trying to communicate what had welled up inside of him all night. He was so lost for words.

The old clock struck half the hour passed three in the morning. The wind picked up outside, forcing the trees to tap the house good night like a midnight guardian angel. The wooden floor under the rugs set with nearly every move the house did and the constant ticking of the clock continued throughout, timing their silence.

Hermione remained as still as it was silent, carefully folding her hands stiffly over her lap. She looked up at him with waiting eyes, restraining herself from reaching out and just holding his hand. She felt her heart practically bleeding with the state he had put himself in and for all the wrong reasons. His nerves had coiled within him like an unkind venomous snake and he felt the need to keep it as so, until he'd said his peace.

Meanwhile, Hermione just waited and watched, keeping her hands to herself as she admired him silently as he thought. How desperately she wanted to hear him speak to her with words of admiration again, like they had in the study just earlier that night. She felt like their bond had already been broken, tainted, and though it had only been a few hours since she last tasted his lips, she hated to be teased with the idea of never having it again.

Through loose messy locks, Sirius peered down at her, watching the way she was so composed, so grounded…so much stronger, emotionally, than he was. Having the status of a Returned, did not mean he was his same old self. Though he tried hiding it, overcoming it, he still never quite felt like the same person he was before he fell into the Veil. Instead, he was replaced with a man who had been regenerated by commitment and devotion from a young witch. Unfortunately, too young for him to have ever considered her a companion.

_Too late. _

For there he was, standing before her with his heart on his sleeve, hoping that she would not judge him for his flaws.

He swallowed his pride and professed to her, "I'm sorry."

When his lips moved, she didn't care what came out of them, as long as he wasn't yelling. By his choice of words, she was momentarily taken aback and took a breath.

His head remained low, his body rigid, and his eyes penetrated her like a serial killer on his target.

Hermione could not read him so she slowly rose to her feet, cautiously. "Sirius, did you do something bad?"

She had to prepare for his irresponsibility. He'd done it once before, and she needed to take it all into consideration for whatever conversation they were about to attempt.

His sudden character change was that into a man that was physically exhausted from living up to her expectations and was brutally wounded by her accusations. His fits balled up, his face cringed like she'd just burned him with candle wax.

"No, though you expect if from me, don't you?"

She shook her head immediately, trying to retract her immediate judgment of mistrust, "No Sirius, I just-"

"I'm worried, Hermione."

"What about?"

"You and Snape," he whispered under his breath.

He appeared to be gaining his confidence by staring at the curves in the carpet, than rather face her. His heart was beating quickly as his nerves felt like they'd been jolted by an electric current. His body language weighed heavy and she still was uneasy with the way his voice was now calm with her, like he was having the conversation entirely in his head.

Hermione shook her head somberly and replied, "There is no more of me and Snape."

As much as he wanted to believe that was true, he had an overbearing feeling that was not the case. Why had they broken up? Who left who? All these answers he felt he deserved to know before he could make a proper decision, but he was an impatient man in this matter and wanted to make it now.

"I'm worried that you're not going to be there."

Hermione remembered someone else saying the very same thing…

"_I think what I'm most afraid of, Hermione," Snape looked away from her for a moment to organize his thoughts. His throat was tight and he cleared it once again to continue, "Is that you're going to meet someone else and after the war ends…you won't be there."_

Sirius worried about the "other man" in her life, as much as Snape practically predicted it. The marauder had no idea she'd made her decision quite a bit ago, that she and Snape wouldn't work. It wasn't a matter of love, it was a matter of society. She loved him once, yes, and she still had a very soft spot for her former potions professor, but now she had made peace with herself that they just couldn't be.

"I can see that," Sirius started with a stiff lip, "it's still in him to tear me apart over you."

Knowing that Snape once held her the way he did, even said similar things like he did, all felt like a reversed betrayal. Like Snape had invaded his own mind, felt what he did, saw what he did and experienced her the same way he did. Sirius felt cheated and neglected that he hadn't learned of her love affair with him sooner, and he couldn't help but wonder _why_. What was she hiding from him? What did they say to each other under intimate circumstances? He felt he needed to know all of this…but even the whisper of his name spoken with hers made his skin crawl with repulsion.

It was hard for him to fathom the fact that she once shared something with Snape as special as what she shared with him, currently. She loved Snape, was she capable of loving him? Such vast opposites, he wondered what she saw in either of them. Sirius couldn't read her mind, not like Snape, so he knew that if he didn't open his mouth soon, he was going to miss the window of opportunity to do it now.

His ribcage was rattling with nerves, his heart still pounded and it echoed in his ears like mile sized cymbals. He was not in this state of duress because he was fresh from a fight; it was because he saw something in her that he'd always been searching for - stability. Hermione Granger had figured him out and to meet his match, it frightened the hell out of him. He'd known himself for thirty-six years, always on a constant safari of self discovery; this witch meets him for the second time around and discovers his inner being before he could.

He needed this. He wanted this. He would fight for it.

Still so fresh and new, probably all wrong in everyone else's eyes, but he didn't care. He was fiercely intrigued by her, her knowledge, her mystery, and her own confidence. Sure, she would deem a trophy to any man his age, but she was more than just anyone's youthful trophy. She was Hermione Granger, the only bird to ever force him to do so much fucking thinking over relationships, emotions and…love.

He had no choice but to bite the bullet and lay it all out, before she ran away. Before Snape ever got the chance to swoop in and try to take her back, he had to place his mark and pin his heart to his sleeve enough so she could see it.

An unsteady hand ran through his messy tendrils and he shook his head to himself as his voice crept out low from his throat, "You've put me in a very hard place, Hermione-"

"That was not my intention, Sirius and Severus isn't-"

"Please listen, " he cut her off before she got a chance to make him lose his train of thought. "I might not say it anytime soon, if I can't say it now."

He prayed to Merlin that he wouldn't frighten her away. This was not the way he normally approached these situations. Come to think of it…he'd never really been in such a situation before, only his friends have and he was usually the fly on the wall.

She averted her eyes to prepare herself for the worst of it. Calmly remaining still, she buttoned her lip and allowed him to continue. His lack of hostility was refreshing compared to the person she was arguing with in the kitchen earlier that night.

"Contrary to what I may have done, you have to believe me when I say that I've tried….for you, Hermione. I'm aware of what we are, I can see it now, and I'm sure that the three beers I nursed tonight for the last five hours are assisting this a little, because I probably wouldn't be thinking so….unrealistically," he explained with the thinking process more for himself.

"You know me rather well now and it's more than I think I know myself. I'm not who others think I am, I don't always mean to act like a fucking irrational adult, and once in awhile things happen I can't explain and it's really, really fucking me up, right now…

It set me off about that git, because of….something I'm unable to control and I can't really see where it's going to go. Like Harry, I've lost a lot and sometimes I can't rely on what I think is a definite thing. Snape and I….will never….ever see eye to eye and that's mostly because I loathe the very air he breathes…"

"Sirius, what are you getting at?" she slipped in timidly, afraid he might actually jump off the handle at her.

"Snape got to something I thought I was lucky to find and somehow I deem that very unfair. You see…I think…no, I am….I think I'm…"

_Was she going to run away?_

The room seemed to be getting smaller; he couldn't say what it was he needed to get out. His mental stutter prevented his honesty with her and for that, he was suffering. It wasn't just what he wanted to say, it was what he needed from her. Something to know that he wasn't losing his mind. His throat felt dry and he tried to refocus. Refocus on what he wanted from her, to make things right. He scoured his brain for the words that would compel her to understand what it was he was thinking.

He took a big deep breath and looked right at her, his words dangling from his tongue, believing in what he was going to say, "…I want you to fall in love with me."

Hermione's blood stilled, her heart was thumping fiercely and she found herself short of breath. Small fireworks of whirl went off in her head, creating a dizzying sensation. It's like he hit her with a two by four and she was just coming round from the blow. Her outside did not display her internal reaction, as she was quite calm and serene, like he'd just said the opposite. He could have asked her about the weather outside and she would have been just as nonexpressive.

Sirius Black was entrusting her to make the right decision for the two of them. Proving that she was the stronger one of the pair, he offered her what he desired, so plain and so simple. The question of the hour still stood: Had Sirius Black finally grown up?

They remained about four feet apart and she could hear the rotation of the earth around them it was so quiet. His eyes were fixed on her like he had held his breath until she's answer, or at least say something. His fists relaxed, now that he'd said his peace and his entire demeanor started to straighten like all the weight in the world had finally left his shoulders.

Why had they put each other through this painful mental torture of shouting, anger and jealousy if all Sirius wanted was assurance? The fault was on Hermione in this matter, since she was the one that remained as button-lipped as the fat lady in the portrait that guarded the door to the Gryffindor common room. She'd kept her secrets hidden, knowing that he was going to react just as he did, and if she wanted anything from a healthy relationship, it was a good stream of communication. She had done exactly the opposite of what she'd forced Snape and Sirius to do the entire time. To be honest with her.

On the other hand, if they hadn't taken each other on this rocky road, they wouldn't have come to the obvious conclusion that both felt strongly for one another, more than just physical, it was now creeping into the commitment stage and this frightened both of them. Hermione saw herself as a weakness since her two latest beaus had been in the Order and she could easily be used as leverage to either of them. To them, she was something too good to be true and for Sirius in particular, she was something he'd never had the pleasure to enjoy before.

He waited for her to reply to the pinning of his heart out there in the open. Would she reject him? Would she say it wasn't possible and the idea of them was just to remain platonic and nothing more because of who they were and what they were involved in? Would she ever consider him for the long run? Would she ever take him seriously, the way she did Snape? If not, what did Snape have that he couldn't acquire?

Hermione finally allowed his words to settle in on her like a warm chocolate down her throat and her lips slowly curved into the approving, understanding, position. Her voice was calm, simple and sincere.

"All right," she nodded slowly.

Oxygen refilled his lungs, the lights had come on in his head, he could hear again and all his extra senses were on overtime when she replied so simple. Never had she looked more beautiful to him and never had he wanted to hold her so strongly.

He made a gesture to open his arms and she stepped into them with ease. She cherished the fact that he was home and not out causing trouble elsewhere. Smothering herself in the fine texture of his black embroidered coat, she pulled out the serene scent of sage that reminded her of him. Her fingers traced down his lapels as her head rested against his chest and she listened to his heartbeat settling back to a normal pulse. The tension in his arms started to lift away, hugging her tightly, closely, not wanting to let her go. She was something he put on a high pedestal and he never wanted her touched by anyone else.


	29. Don't Ignore Your Dreams

_A note from Serade Black: Here's another update to the story. Some have commented that it seems to go on and on, but it is just me writing about Sirius and Hermione's entire courtship and both of their Auror careers. The dreams do play a small factor in the story, seeing as you're getting glimpses into the mind of a witch who always shrugged off Divinations. I nearly have the ending all written, but it is down on an outline I've kept to most of this time. I hope you're enjoying the twists in there, as I've tried to make realistic situations, and not just some MarySue stuff going on and about._

_Thank you so much for the loyal reviews you've given me. I dearly appreciate all the kind words and suggestions I've gotten. Also, this is the PG13 chapter, edited for purposes. To get the uncut version, go to the link on my bio page._

SB

Ch. 29 **"Don't Ignore Your Dreams"**

Number twelve Grimmauld Place was once for only those that were practically royalty. Many purebloods passed though its doors, donning the aristocratic aura of personal right to be who they were. No "mudbloods" allowed, or even one's name even spoken when you were in the Noble House of Black. Several house elves were proud to have their heads mounted on the wall, to show their long time loyalty. Chandeliers once shone through the hallways, walls were decorated with the most famous of family members that supported the darker side of the wizarding world and the family tree once flourished with vibrant life and color in the most populated room in the house. There was a certain type of behavior to be expected when you resided, or visited, Grimmauld Place and it was almost a sure bet that what Sirius and Hermione were doing was not previously acceptable.

0o0o0o0

_Hermione walked into an unknown house, dropping off groceries from the muggle market onto the counter. Just as she was starting to take things from the paper bags, she heard a small boom from the second floor vibrate through the walls, making the foyer chandelier shake. _

_With a deep breath, she immediately put her apples back on the counter and took off into a routine jog out of the kitchen and up the stairs that circled around the foyer. When she got to the top, she knew it could only have come from one room; she took an immediate right and followed down the hallway._

_Before she could scold anyone, the door at the end of the hall flew open and out came a toddling little girl, about two, and she guessed her older brother, about four, running away from the trouble and passed Hermione._

"_Daddy did it!" the two children declared in unison. The older boy took the little girl's hand and started down the stairs, trying to avoid any unfair punishment they might not have deserved._

_Hermione's eyes stared at the door ahead of her that was ajar. Very carefully, she pushed the old door open further, surveying the room. The large open room had soot on all the furniture, the ceiling was the color of green and all the windows had been shattered. When the smoke started to clear, she heard coughing from the guilty party of one. Shaking her head, she glanced down at her wedding ring and wondered why she married him._

Like an electric current had jolted Hermione, she was abruptly brought out of her dream and given the reminder that she was confined within Sirius's arms and her head against his tattooed chest.

"A'right, love?"

She knew that the voice wasn't from the unknown man in the dream coughing of smoke and quickly masked her subtle disappointment. She felt Sirius's hand rub gently against her back as he inquired again if she was all right.

Nodding her head, she glanced up at him to see him peering down at her lying against him. She gave him a half smile and said, "Fine, just having dreams."

"Good dreams?"

"Depends on what they are," she explained.

"Dreams are often taken for granted. Someone like you should be more in-tune to what they fall asleep to," he said with an assuring voice.

"I've been known to have dreams that mean things," she whispered, closing her eyes and trying to drift off again, perhaps back to where she'd already been.

"Don't neglect your dreams, love," he whispered.

0o0o0o0o0

"I cannot believe you wanted to go Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve," Hermione said, under her breath. She'd been lured into going out with Sirius for last minute shopping in Diagon Alley.

Before stepping into the Leaky Cauldron, bright-eyed Sirius whirled around on his vocal witch that clutched to her Starbucks cup and was in mid sip. With grey-blue eyes twinkling, his leather jacket zipped and a gloved hand holding hers tight he tilted his head and sighed.

"Humor me, love," he asked politely. He'd had to battle her disapproval since they left Grimmauld Place and the only way to sate her for just a few minutes was to stop by a muggle coffee shop that sold her holiday white chocolate mocha latte.

Silently admitting that she was starting to sound like a broken record, she nodded her surrender and said, "I know, I know. You can do whatever you want."

Her words rolled off her tongue so mechanically, she knew he deserved to do this holiday in any fashion he wished. She just wished he was a little more original than going out to the most popular wizarding establishments in the world the day before Christmas. He flashed a dashing smile and a flirty wink, displaying his normal character, and pushed on through the old wooden door with iron handles.

Their entranced was announced as Tom alerted the entire pub that Sirius had just walked in. Even after being offered a couple of butterbeers on the house, Sirius politely declined and waved on as they stepped to the back to the brick wall where the entrance to Diagon Alley lied.

Sirius held Hermione's hand tight as she trotted behind him, stopping abruptly as Sirius racked his brain to remember which combination of brick tapping it was in order to get through. After two unsuccessful attempts, he relied on Hermione to help him out. Together they tapped the bricks, listening to the magical rumbling of the stone wall removing before their eyes.

Like a child in a candy store, Sirius was elated that his memories were being revisited. His happier ones, of course.

"Always forget that one," he said, regarding the brick combination. "Mum always took us to Knockturn, and well, I could do that combination in a heart beat."

"Don't worry, I'll never have a need to go there," Hermione added as her eyes bulged with the amount of witches, wizards, goblins and the like filled the streets before them.

All bustled in their holiday's warmest, packages levitated above families trying to make their last minute runs, owls flew over head with greeting cards or howlers, and stores were mobbed like everything was being given away for free.

Hermione glanced over at Sirius whose face was now alight with smiles and chuckles as he took in everything like it was his first time seeing the sunlight. Something soothed her insides when she saw the happiness radiating out of Sirius. He was practically glowing he was beaming so brightly and it was at that moment that she didn't mind they were there battling the crowds before them. It no longer mattered that they were going to have to wait in line for purchases or freeze their noses off from the bitter cold, because this was all so new to him. Thinking back, he only had a few holidays he could look upon as being his happiest and it was probably only when he was free and clear and an adult when he made his own choices. It was when he was with the Potters and was starting to take a life of his own.

She hadn't realized how deprived he truly was. A man worth galleons and galleons and no one to share it with, and yet here she was with him. He said he wouldn't go unless she went with him, even suggesting Harry came along, but he was determined that it had to be her to join him first and foremost. Harry had been busy with Ginny, so he wasn't available and even if he was, Sirius was still set on it being her to come with him that day.

Her heart was racing, her palms were sweaty under their gloves and she felt more euphoric than with the greatest medicinal herb. They had only just started to brave the streets, when she grabbed him by his scarf and pulled him to her for a severe and forceful kiss. She caught him off-guard where he really didn't even have time to wrap his arms around her while she was holding him at moist point. A slight slip of the tongue, but no more and she had made her point.

Finally releasing him, he didn't want to pull back, "What was that for?"

She kept her eyes on him for there was no one in the world but the two of them, "Just making it easier to fall in love with you."

He smiled like a schoolboy and wrapped an arm around her shoulders so they could walk as close as two could while they walked under fairy lights, owls swooping and packages floating through the air.

They dipped into Gringotts, saying hello to Bill and Fleur, who were both otherwise pleased to see them enraptured with each other again. Sirius filled his wallet and went on to spend an obnoxious amount of money this holiday season.

The two popped into Flourish and Botts where they decided to get Molly Weasley a new Lockhart cookbook that had just been released from his memoirs. Gilderoy, of course, still remained in St. Mungos after all this time and had since been exploited by his publishers since his name sold books better than anyone. After their books were packaged, Hermione dragged Sirius into the cauldron shop where she bought Ginny a new pewter one to take back with her to America. Sirius bought Harry a new quidditch bag, since the smell of his old one was enough to denounce himself of godfather status it was so bad. And for Remus and Tonks, they bought them an automatic room silencer so they wouldn't have to frighten anyone with loud love-making howling.

The holiday spirit was intoxicating and soon Hermione was more than pleased to have been dragged out to such a visited place on days of all days. Hearing Sirius whistle as he shopped, feeling his gloved hand just slip into hers or hearing him finding it hard to decide which present to get someone, only to buy them both in the end, made the entire day worthwhile.

Sirius had convinced Hermione to settle down for a light lunch, before continuing on, so they warmed up inside a new café called Jinxes. Not so close to the windows so passers-by wouldn't gawk at them (they'd been lucky, so far) and they could enjoy a quiet lunch in private. After pulling out the chair for her and helping remove her coat, Sirius sat down across from Hermione at the small table and held her hand as they perused over the menu.

"G'day, I'm Tatiana, I'll be your waitwitch. Something to dri- Merlin's beard, you're Sirius Black!" the pretty blonde witch said astonishingly.

The two of them looked up, Sirius quickly and Hermione slowly, as they heard her excitement. Typical Sirius, he gave the witch a side smile as he said his hello to her. Just shy of meeting the Weird Sisters, the witch's excitement level was quietly increasing and she was very aware of how she was supposed to act when situations like these arose. Contrary to what others made deem a bit much, she contained herself as best she could.

"I'm sorry, I just can't believe - my mother is going to have a squid when I tell her - sorry, sorry!" the witch was talking a mile a minute and she leaned in closer to the table to quiet down. "It's just that, I've followed your story for years and I just _knew _that you were innocent. I mean, of course it all happened when I was just a kid, but honestly…we just couldn't believe-"

"Nice to meet you, Tatiana," he said setting down his menu to shake her hand. His other hand was still gripped tightly in Hermione's clutches.

She set down her pad of paper and quill and wiped off her hands on her apron to properly shake his hand. The young witch was beside herself and she tried her hardest to not be so "fan girl" over Sirius, but Sirius paid no attention and let the girl squeal. He was always a sucker for fame.

"Oh, Mr. Black-"

"Sirius, love, just call me Sirius," he corrected with a wink.

Hermione watched as the waitwitch was about to explode or hop on his lap, she couldn't decide. Instead, she gave Sirius's hand a light squeeze in order to move it along so they could order lunch that week.

Sirius turned his head, as if remembering that he had a date that afternoon and went to introduce Hermione, but the girl seemed to already know who she was as well.

"Hermione Granger, yes I know!" Tatiana quipped as if she couldn't be so lucky to meet two well-known wizards at the same time, let alone at the same table. "Yes, you had a thing with that quidditch player. Hey, are you still seeing Harry Potter?"

Hermione shook her head, trying to correct the never ending misinformation, "Harry and I never went out, and we're just best friends."

"Right and Harry is your godson, right?" Tatiana turned the attention back to Sirius.

Sirius nodded, "Yes, that's my boy."

Like chomping invisible gum, Tatiana pointed at the two of them, as if the entire story was trying to make sense in her hairsprayed mind. It appeared that there was a scandal unfolding right before her eyes, but she fancied Sirius too much to attempt to blow it all out of proportion so she just smiled, picked up her quill and pad and continued to take drink orders.

Once she was away, Hermione smiled, keeping her eyes low on the table, "You are a piece of work, Sirius Black."

Sirius looked back at her as he watched Tatiana practically fly away from their table. He was smitten that he had a fan in the mix and when he was called out on it, he was honest when he didn't know what she was talking about. He was such a blind man, sometimes.

Their lunch was a quiet one, for the most part, until the end when Sirius was just paying the bill that had flown over. A flash bulb went off in the small café, interrupting a few diners. Pretending that they barely noticed, they stood up to leave with packages in tow and Sirius reaching for Hermione's hand. Ignoring the paparazzi, they left the building as calmly as a leaving a church service.

"Sirius! Sirius, a word love?" Rita called out as she quickly weaved around the people still in the restaurant.

"Rita, it's Christmas, do you mind?" he said, keeping Hermione very close to him as if he were protecting her from being snatched away.

"Oh, come on, Sirius. Just one word for the Prophet to wish my readers a happy holiday, at least? Perhaps a better photograph of you and Miss Granger could make the front page?" she baited with a tongue to the roof of her mouth.

The two turned around once they heard Hermione's last name. The four of them, Sirius, Hermione, Rita and her photographer, stood on the sidewalk like construction road blocks and rushing shoppers bustled past them without a second look.

Rita's pointy red glasses were on low on her nose, her curved eye brow was high and intrigued by them and she waited patiently for them to take the bait she'd thrown at them. Pleased with their initial surprise that Rita had discovered who the one-time mystery witch was, Rita clucked her tongue with feigned discipline.

Rita smirked and watched her quick quotes quill soar into the air next her, ready for a priceless quote. "Yes love, I know who you are," she cooed. "I went back into the archives to double check, because I knew I knew your face from _somewhere_."

Sirius stood firm, but bored. He'd rather listen to Neville draw on about gillyweed. He cleared his throat to get the attention off of his lady, but failed as Rita continued rambling.

"Hermione Granger, Harry Potter's best friend, quidditch heartbreaker, Hogwarts Valedictorian class of -" Rita was cut short by the ex-con.

"Rita, get on with it or whatever. Unlike you, we've got errands to run. Take your picture, write your story, do whatever soulless efforts you make and to your readers, we bid them a happy Christmas," Sirius jabbed, turning his back on the reporter and keeping Hermione close next to him.

As they wove through the crowded sidewalk, Hermione felt content and safe that she had someone by her side that was willing to stand up for her. Granted, nothing cruel was said, but Sirius took it particularly personal and didn't want their day to be tainted with forced words from the Daily Prophet's biggest instigator.

"You're quite the Daily Prophet baby, aren't you?" Sirius chuckled under his breath once they were out of ear shot.

Her peace was broken and she looked up, scandalized, "Hello, kettle?"

He continued to charm her with that boyish grin, "Yes, quidditch heartbreaker, I believe she said? I must have missed a few issues along the way."

Together they walked out of the Leaky Cauldron, waving their good-byes and good wishes to Tom and the other barflies that occupied the ancient pub. Emptying onto the streets of muggle London, they started their walk in the direction of Grimmauld Place while Father Winter nipped at their noses and reminded them where to tighten their scarves, jackets or gloves.

With packages in tow, Sirius practically hummed with glee as he walked with her down the familiar streets of London. Rather than taking the tube that chilly day, he wanted to stretch out his legs and meander through neighborhoods he used to roam when he'd escape from his house during long summer days.

They came upon a very quaint, antique looking dark blue house with iron detailed shutters. A tall gate presented it proudly along the walk, complimenting the houses around it to obviously follow the fashion. It stood at three levels, with the windows on the top floors closed up and dark. Though the lawn was almost frozen from the cold, it still looked well-manicured and taken care of.

Sirius stopped in front of it and from the sidewalk, trailed his eyes up the height of it, taking in its ornate detail. Compared to all the houses around it, it was definitely the greatest, as the heavy structure it remained to be was a work of art. He put a hand up to the iron railing that stood as tall as them and gripped it hard, his fingers flexing and his palm tensing.

"Do you know this house?" Hermione asked, hugging his arm and trying to see the house the way he did.

He took a deep breath to cleanse his mind that was plagued with memories of a not so good time in his life. He slowly nodded and opened the gate to enter. Without a word to Hermione, he held her hand tightly and stepped through the gate.

Hermione looked down the vacant street, having worried if neighbors might see them trespassing on the stoop and call the authorities, but Sirius did not flinch. Believing they were safe, she followed alongside of him, listening to the bending wood beneath their feet as they went up the four steps that topped them up to a small sit down porch. Sirius took out his wand and pointed it to the door handle, "Alohamora."

"Sirius, this is trespassing! We can't go inside!" she warned in a stage whisper. She was all for adventure, but not for muggle jail. Perhaps she should tell him what they do to pretty men like him in jail if they were to venture further.

"It's alright, trust me, love," he confirmed. He showed no fear and used his shoulder to assist him in pushing open the heavy wooden door with two foot hinges that creaked loudly.

Hermione's heart started to pound with angry fear that Sirius was so bold as to break into an unknown house. She could already see the headlines in the Daily Prophet and Rita tearing the two of them apart with muggle charges of burglary. Maybe they'd be able to share a cell, since they would definitely be the "odd ones" if incarcerated in muggle jail.

She heard his voice calling her name again, breaking her out of her train of thought and refocusing on a beckoning beau from inside the doorway of the ancient house. She heard a dog barking down the street, surely indicating that someone had seen them stirring about in this, she hoped, abandoned home. He held her hand firmly as he pulled her inside with him, but she kept warning him that they were not in a good place to be at the time. Christmas or not, the owners would not be happy for a wizard and his young witch girlfriend to be breaking and entering into this beautiful, Victorian styled chateau on the corner of a quiet street.

"Sirius, really, we shouldn't-" she stilled. Her eyes followed his when she looked ahead of them standing in the doorway.

She felt the air leave her lungs as she took in the magnificent house with a grand staircase winding around the outside of the room to the second and third floors. A huge crystal chandelier hung from the third floor ceiling, down the center of the stairway, touching the top of what would just make the first floor ceiling. Vacant portraits hung on the walls as burned out candles were still placed in the torches. She felt like a small child in size as she took in the huge home and was intrigued to venture further from the front foyer by it's hypnotizing decadence. She glanced back at Sirius who had a content grin play over his lips, confirming that it was safe to do so. He tucked his wand back in his pants and nodded for her to walk around.

Believing that they had at least a few minutes before anyone discovered their intrusion, she walked through the hallway, with Sirius at her feet, feeling drawn to that direction for some reason. When she opened the door, she froze in her footsteps. Her heart immediately jumped up into her throat, her hands started to shake as they held the crystal door handle and she spun around on her heel to face him. Like she'd seen a ghost, he patted her on the arm and pushed forward passed her and further into the kitchen. He rounded around the large oak table fit for a family of twelve that sat in the center and folded his hands around his back like he was looking at antiques.

Hermione felt her skin tingling, her mouth gaped open like a fish out of water and the hair on the back of her neck started to lift. _She'd been here before. This was the kitchen in her dream._

"Sirius, whose house is this?" she managed to whisper, but it came out scratchy and fearful.

"It's mine," he shrugged with a flip of his hair.


	30. Torn Between Wizards

_A note from Serade Black: I hope you all are still taken with the story. I've been ahead of chapters, so we're looking at probably finishing this one with about Ch. 38. Stay tuned, some twists are coming about. Reviews are great and I apologize for any errors we've missed._

Ch. 30

As if all the air around them could have been put on pause, Hermione did not breathe. Her heart immediately stopped and felt like her mouth had dried up completely like she'd just emerged from being under water with no relief. Hermione stared at Sirius, like she'd never seen him before. Like he'd just performed magic for the first time before her, and she knew he was capable of so much more but was unsure of what to say to him. He, on the other hand, was not alarmed by her state and shrugged his shoulders unimpressed. He walked around the room, surveying the inner structure of old wood and metal that made up the décor of the kitchen.

Dark aged wood made up the walls draped in green and eggplant colored furnishings of hanging rods, door knobs, antique kitchen appliances, flooring and torch fixtures. Old wooden portraits hung around the room showing their age by the amount of dust that had gathered against their canvases. A candle chandelier hung over the small round servant table with claw feet and an open archway emptied into a vast dining room.

"Your house?" she questioned practically stuttering, as if he was putting her on. She was terrified with the realization of her dream that this was the same house.

It just didn't make sense. She'd never been here before, but she remembered parts of this house. She remembered in her dream that she flew out of the kitchen the second she heard a loud boom. She remembered running up the stairs that seemed to go on forever, to the second floor and taking a right down the hallway towards a suspicious door.

"Yes, essentially it was given to me. I never actually lived here," he explained with a lyrical voice.

Sirius came back in from the dining room with his hands folded behind his back like an antique dealer admiring the artifacts. "My uncle Alphard gave it to me when I ran away when I was sixteen. I never used it, just owned it, and lived out my last two summers at the Potters." Hermione watched the way he'd sigh as he thought back fondly on his other life, but the light airy sound of his voice indicated that he wasn't too broken up over the change of luck he'd had lately these last few months. "I left it to Harry in the will; so technically, it's his house, now."

Sirius walked up to a vacant portrait and tapped its frame, as if to summon the occupant that once resided in there. After a few impatient seconds, Sirius would get distracted by something else and make his way about the kitchen, walking around the frozen Hermione like she didn't even exist.

"I always thought Harry would have given it to one of you. I figured that whenever he'd settle down, he'd keep Grimmauld Place and hand down this one to you, Ron or Remus. When I floated around in the nothingness, I always thought this would be a good, safe house for you lot to have your kids run through the halls-"

"Kids?" Hermione finally broke her voice through the wall of cotton in her mouth that prevented her to speak after discovering the ownership of the house. She said the word like it was foreign to her. _There were two children in her dream._

"Yes, kids, Hermione. There comes a time in a couple's life when they get together and-"

"Don't mock me, Sirius! It's just that I've…" she caught herself, before she announced her dream to him.

What if he wasn't the "daddy" the little one spoke of. What if he _was_? The smoke in the room never cleared enough so she could see who it was, only that she was going to have a raven haired boy. It didn't say anything about the father, who she was married to, or whether it was Sirius or even Snape. Or someone else? The truth of it was, one way or another, she was going to call this old house home someday…if she listened to her dreams.

"You've what, love?" Sirius insisted on her question. She had hesitated to finish her last word, like something had sparked inside of her to quiet up.

Her eyes met his again, wide open and forgetting to blink. As if he had crawled up inside of her head, she panicked silently that he may have been able to read her mind. Her lower lip quivered as she looked back at him standing there, drawn to her like she'd known something he didn't. She watched the way an eyebrow of his propped up and his nose twitched slightly like a small wild animal harboring in a tree.

She took in a breath, careful not to make a sound. When answering, she knew she was going to have to lie. She could not tell him what was running through her mind like a drunken prophet. What if her dream was for she and Severus and those were _their _kids running through the halls? The idea only came to mind, because in all honesty, she never stopped loving Severus, she just claimed not to be _in _love with him currently.

"That I've never seen such a house so magnificent before!" she recovered quickly.

He offered her a warm smile as she complimented the building they stood in. On with his tour, he reached out for her hand and took her from room to room to show it off to her, each time making small quips about the Uncle who gave it to him and nice stories of holidays with him.

Hermione listened carefully, taking each word in with splendid detail, each time mentally going back to that kitchen and retracing her steps up the long room-wrapping staircase. When they eventually made it to the second floor, Sirius took a natural right and went down the long dark hallway. He illuminated his wand tip to guide them through, dodging a cobweb here and there, always glancing over his shoulder to see if Hermione approved. Mechanically, she nodded and smiled like she usually did when he sought her opinion or mental reassurance.

They had passed a few doors down the hallway, but it was evident that Sirius was leading her to the end of the hall. Hermione swallowed as it dawned on her that the door she was being led to, like a lemming to the sea, was to the room that made the big boom in her dream. She could vividly see two little children, first the youngest girl and then the older boy, escaping from guilty mischief.

As they approached the door, Hermione could see that it was partially ajar, as if someone had already come and gone through it. Impossible. Sirius pushed against the door with no reservations and illuminated the room with floating orbs of light from his wand. He invited Hermione to step inside with him, indicating that it was safe.

She cautiously stepped in, keeping an alert eye out on anything that may have hibernated there, but again her breath escaped her for she stood in a bedroom that was big enough to fit four large sized cars. Furnished with the original ancient oak four-post bed, matching wardrobe that could hold a dozen ball gowns, vanity and lounge. The curtains were partially drawn and were the shade of a dark rich burgundy, made of velvet, overlooking central London with Big Ben in their view. As Hermione practically floated into the rich room, she admired the view like she'd never seen England before.

"This is absolutely…gorgeous, Sirius," she almost forgot her speech the room was so lavish and sophisticated.

She felt like a rebellious child playing in an adult room she'd only dreamed of. The air of the room, as well as the rest of the house, had a musty scent, but she quickly remedied that by filling the stifling air with a tranquil chamomile. Such a mansion should not suffer from an unattractive aroma.

"As pompous as my family was, they at least had taste," Sirius said, defending his lineage for one thing that was good.

After a thorough tour of the third floor and its enchanted attic, they left the house to get home to Grimmauld Place and start getting ready for the evening ahead of them. Sirius returned all the locking spells he had undone and as they walked away, Hermione couldn't refrain from putting up a few protective wards on the house to ensure its safety. She'd felt strongly drawn to this house for obvious dreaming reasons and felt the need to keep it safe. If her dreams indicated something in the future that she was going to be living in it, and it wasn't with Sirius, the least she could do would be to preserve it the way he liked it.

When she turned around to follow Sirius out to the gate, she saw how positively beaming he was that she had appreciated it the way he once did all those years ago when it was given to him. It warmed a place deep inside of him he'd never met before and his stomach gave a little flutter.

0o0o0o0o0

The gathering for the Weasley twins' holiday party was lovely. They'd charmed their store and transformed the room to a small 18th century ballroom. With ornate detail in wall furnishings, a grand chandelier, tall wide mirrors and a wooden floor, the attendees did not fit the costume. Infact, they were rather casual compared to the normal attire one would wear and deem fitting for such a ball, but as George said, it was all just for show. Usually these types of ballrooms were much more grand and not jammed into a small store where every once in awhile, someone would bump their head on the low hanging chandelier.

Like an elephant in the room, no one had spoken about the argument Hermione and Sirius had shared the night before. Most everyone had hear what the dispute was about, but felt it unnecessary to twiddle in others affairs. Once Hermione and Sirius showed up at the party arm and arm and later hand in hand, guests expected nothing less from "ticking time bomb" Sirius Black.

When Hermione was passing Kingsley from the bar, she was called over to him for some information regarding the Order. Hermione bowed her head and waited to hear what she was supposed to spread to the right people, carefully absorbing her instructions word for word. Once complied, she left his side to seek out Sirius, ready with both the information and his third glass of champagne for the night.

"…so I told him to bugger off, that's MY broomstick you chav!" Sirius barked with laughter as Hermione was just coming upon the small foursome circle.

With the clever cunning of a sly fox, she wound her arm through his elbow, handed him his flute and politely pulled him away from the attention. The circled closed up without him, inviting the next passerby to take his space in conversation.

His interest was easily swayed when the young brunette witch with the velvet green dress took him away. His eyes rolled over her like a hungry wolf as he admired her, mentally pinching himself that he was so lucky to have the brainy intelligent young girl as his company. Like spun silk, her hair was swept up off her shoulders in silver barrettes, adding a hint of elegance in her unruly hair. Her skin appeared as soft as her dress and Sirius found himself just lifting the back of his hand to slide it down her cheek.

"Have I said in the last ten minutes how stunning you look?" he sincerely asked. Though slightly driven by his skulking intoxication, his words rolled off his tongue like poetry by Shakespeare.

Bashfully, she ducked her head away as she rubbed her lips nervously. She'd shared a bath with the man and he was still able to ignite a swarm of sparrows to wrestle in her stomach. Like the puppy dog crush she once believed this to be, she couldn't believe that his affection was all for her.

Business had to come first, so as he came at her with a chaste kiss in mind, she deprived him of such a gesture by holding up a finger to his lips. "Two minutes, then you can get back to your compliments. Kingsley told me he's spoken to Robards and the latest is we're waiting for the final details from Snape, before we go ahead and plan the raid."

Sirius watched her lips move intently, believing each word mattered more than the Pope, but he was still distracted by something coming into earshot. Being an animagus, he'd acquired a great sense of hearing at that.

"…So, Snape's going to get the exact location and timing for Voldemort and what he's been working with. Then, we'll go from that point. Tell Remus, in private of course. I'll get around to telling the others. Kingsley also told me that we're going to disguise some of the messenger owls and borrow quite a few from Hogwarts to alert other members of the plan. Clear, Sirius?" She tilted her head, wondering if he'd heard a word she'd said, "Sirius?"

His name being said for the fourth time brought him back to the room, to her, to their discussion, but he was hypnotized by a familiar, loving sound. The sound was so faint, he had to have been the only one to have heard it. He closed his eyes for a second as he imagined it…the roar of the engine, the wind in his hair, the vibrations between his thighs…

"Do you hear a motorcycle?" he simply asked.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"Really, love, it's like fifteen below Celsius tonight, do you have to?" Sirius chuckled.

The chilly evening of Christmas Eve was drawing to a close as Hermione and Sirius were prepared for sleep to take them over. The presents had been laid out, some had been opened, toasts had been given, it was well after one in the morning and Hermione was still tipping around the bedroom to open up the furthest window about eight inches. The wind blew a light blast through the stiff window, having not been opened for a month, to rush over any skin of hers that was bare from her flannel shirt she wore for sleeping.

After making sure the window was secure, she quickly tipped back over to the bed to hide under the warm comforts of several down comforters and an old quilt Hermione had taken into the room from her own. When it came to being toasty warm under the covers, she went all out and spared no expense, nor an Aunts token of love. As Sirius unrobed, exposing himself to the chill Hermione had let in, he smirked down at her when he noticed deep brown eyes looking up at him from under layers of feather down. Amused, he shook his head and slinked into the bed like a well trained gigolo ready for his prize.

Hermione watched him carefully, her mouth twitching, waiting for him to say something smart. Instead, she defended herself without one word, "Yes, it's a tradition and I intend on doing it for my kids."

"Love, a fat man in a red and white suit isn't going to bypass the chimney to come in through the window. I swear, you muggles really fill your kids' heads with rubbish," Sirius added sardonically.

Hermione looked at him not like he'd just insulted her, but smugly as she found unnecessary business fluffing up her pillow and adjusting the comforter around her body, secluding herself away from him.

"We know that," she said in her old "know-it-all" voice, "It's just the idea that _maybe _he would. It might sound silly to you, but my kids are going to love the tradition."

Sirius stared up at the old vaulted ceiling in his bedroom, taking in the peace he felt lying next to her. How he learned to love the sound of her voice, the smell of her nearby. Even on the night of all nights, they still kept their normal routine where he would situate himself, even with her false irritability, and then wait, practically counting the seconds before she'd drape her arms and legs over his chest and waist, clinging to him. She would find the perfect nook in around his neck, lay her open palm against his chest and run a finger lightly over the etchings of his tattoos. He loved that part.

"I just hope that your kids are smart enough to humor you and when you shut their door, get up and shut the bloody window!" he joked while running a free hand over her head, patting down her wild locks. His nose twitched slightly from her curls in his face.

The gesture was subtle, but soothing and she continued to run a finger over his chest. Her hand flattened and ran down the smooth skin of his torso and then over his flat belly. She felt a finger run over her ear lobe, reciprocating the light caress she was tending to him. The tranquil touches settled her subconscious to another place, breaking down her surrounding environment to thoughts of her dream. What if he was the father of her two kids in the dream? She hated to think that what they had worked so hard on would go wrong down the line, so instead she filled her head with naïve thoughts of their future.

"Do you want children?" she asked quietly, nearly a whisper. They'd been joking thus far; she didn't want to break the mood.

He was quiet, as if deeply considering the question. In a matter of seconds he seemed to be evaluating his life and what he had to show for it. His answer was still very Sirius Black, however.

"Yes," he simply said. "You offering?"

That warm melting feeling warmed her insides, like he couldn't have thought of a more neutral answer. A smiled slowly crept over her lips, blushing her cheeks just slightly. "Names, yet?"

His hand continued his petting as he stared up at the ceiling again to lose himself in a proper answer, "I've always like the name, Adara, if I were to have a girl."

The name sounded almost lyrical as it left his low, gravely voice lying there in bed with her. The chilled air would indeed add a light cold in the morning, but she wasn't about to close that window now. Not when she was wrapped up against her lover in a way that told her she wanted so badly to imagine the little raven haired girl in the dream toddling about with that pretty name. But, then she was reminded that it was just a dream.

"And a boy?" she sweetly requested.

Sirius took a bit longer with his answer, She heard a few quiet hums of thought as she mulled over his selections, thinking about which one was the most appropriate. He'd had a lot of time to think it all over in his time of loneliness that he never imagined himself having to make such a decision. He unconsciously turned his neck to kiss her head and lightly take in the scent of her hair, as if it would assist in his assessment.

"Rigel, I particularly liked when I had my time of thinking. It's not been any family members' names so that is a plus. However, I might like to give him the middle name, Alphard, since he was always a favorite uncle of mine."

"Adara and Rigel? Not a bad set, at that. You've done some thinking in your spare time."

Sirius lightly chuckled, as if naming children was the last thing on his mind these days. He was still trying to adjust to normal life than planning a family. Though quite titillating to discuss with her, they were far from being a likely pair to have offspring together.

That would be too much of a dream.

0o0o0o0

_Four masked wizards closed in on the steps of the little cottage, hidden in a muggle suburb. A short walk to a shabby looking house, the vandals saw no issue with breaking the door down since its wards were not up for the night. _

_Like a small army, the intruders barged into the house with the brown door that practically fell apart once a shoulder went into it to shove it open. Heavy footsteps kicked various furniture legs forcing them to fall over with broken supports. Showing no respect, the six dark wizards wearing black robes destroyed the living room with ease. Portraits were slashed, vases were tipped over creating a grand crash and the flowers trampled, potion bottles were dumped onto the carpet with some ingredients burning a hole into the floor. The trespassers went about the small room, pouring into the kitchen looking for something and weren't going to let up in destroying the fellow wizard's home until they were finished._

_The shortest one of the lot rounded the corner to go up the stairs, when he found a small framed portrait of a familiar looking girl. A young pretty witch was sitting on a bench reading a book and occasionally looking up at the viewer. She smiled unknowingly to the person holding her frame, unaware that she just being there, sitting, on a spring afternoon in the park, blue halter dress tied around her neck and sweet lips ready to kiss, that she was sealing a loved one's fate._

_The wizard clutched her frame offensively and snorted with a grunt, recognizing the girl immediately as "Potter's friend". A stirring settled in the living room as they convened before venturing up the narrow flight of stairs to their proposed target. With blood on their lips and betrayal on their minds they formed a quick plan to tear away the untrusted one._

_The lot carried on up the staircase where they kicked in the occupant's bedroom door, grabbing him unsuspectingly out of bed, hearing his yells and dragging him down the flight of stairs like a prisoner. The quarters were too small to deal with him on the upper floor, so painfully they made sure he hit every thump on his head along the way from being pulled, kicked and generally tortured to return to the first floor._

_A feeble cry for his wand, but his cheek felt a sharp sheering pain as he was practically knocked unconscious. The men in control appeared to not have the use for wands, or rather they just weren't that well skilled with one, and instead posed as another's henchmen._

"_Snape, you should have learned from the others!" the short man kicked Snape in the stomach, forcing him to double over in pain._

"_Muggle lover are we? This fine piece looks a bit familiar. I think I remember her at Hogwarts…Potter's friend is it?" the same voice insinuated as he took his wand out of his robe this time._

_Snape felt the iron taste on his lips and he spit out the pooling blood on his tongue. He tried to look up through greasy locks of long hair, but he was somewhat dazed from the blow on the back of his head._

"_You've been playing both teams, haven't you? Been honest with them, been a traitor to us?" the interrogator questioned, holding the tip of his wand to Snape's throat._

_Snape shook his head, for fear of passing out and losing any bit of control he might have had, "No, you twit, I have to play both sides. The Dark Lord knows this truth!"_

"_Been dipping your potions quill in her ink, have you? Or do you just normally fancy your students?" the same voice berated as he walked around the house, picking up random things that may or may become his new property._

"_Maybe I have, at least I do it alone!" Snape yelled defiantly, trying desperately to see his attacker's face but the shadows hid their identity._

_The man circled around behind him, watching the other three hold him against his mercy or fear he might spring up and retaliate. The shortest man had his wand at the ready, hatred coursed through his veins in the event that Snape had been a traitor to the rest of the Death Eaters and worst of all to the Dark Lord. To find him guilty would win him great reward, as he failed to do any kind of pleasing during these raids._

_It was tragic that Snape wasn't more aware of his name coming up on the list of Death Eater's to check into. He always believed he was free and clear on those matters, but by having a photograph of his ex-love nearby on a shelf sealed his doom._

"_You do not make excuses, Snape? A man whose life is at my mercy in his own house? How the mighty ones fall with such grandeur," the man intimidated, kicking over a chair._

"_You're not a man if you do this to one of your own-"_

"_Ah, but I am! My father instructed me, I take the orders and I leave with more than what I have," he explained._

"_Draco?" Snape questioned with a tilt of his head._

"_Crucio!" the short man in the black cloak yelled with anger and hatred in his voice._

Hermione's breath caught in her throat as she forced herself to awaken from her dark dream of turmoil. For a moment, she lost her sense of placement and couldn't recognize the ceiling she was staring at, for she was still mentally back in Severus's old house on Spinner's End. She propped herself up on her elbows to survey the room and bring herself back out of her dream and safely place her in a warm, inviting room. The scene she was vividly witnessing had left her with a shaking chill and unsettling peace of mind of insecurity and fear.

A whisper of a graveling voice stirred next to her in the early hours of morning as she turned her head to the handsome shadows that lie next to her. Definitely not the man whose death she was witnessing and her heart was numb of feeling when she turned her head away.

"What's wrong, love?" Sirius asked half awake, still not forcing his eyes to open, "Your dream?"

"Severus," she whispered in despair and made to get out of bed.

With minimal effort, the Adonis-like man with well defined arms reached out to bring her in closer. His hands snaked around her waist to press her back against him and he gently nuzzled the back of her ear and neck with sandpaper kisses.

"Look love," he started to whisper into the night, "If you're going to have dreams with him in them, please don't ever let me know."

Indifferent, she did not respond to his gentle caress and answered firm, "No, Sirius…something is not right."

She pried herself away from his loving hold, not thinking twice about getting out of bed and into the chilled air that blew in from the half-open window. She felt compelled to do something, but unsure move to make next. Instead, she paced shortly across the carpet in her flannel night shirt and striped socks.

"Love, don't worry," he begged into the pillow. He was mildly frustrated that his name had made it to such intimate quarters he shared. It disgusted him, but there was no use in changing her mind at three o'clock in the morning. "I'm sure the greasy git is just fine, so just lay down here next to me to forget about him."

She didn't listen; if anything she shook her head defiantly, pacing the floor like a patient in St. Mungos. Sirius couldn't doubt her intuition if something was generally wrong, but it was the power Snape still held over her, even when he wanted nothing more that to have her pressed up against his body in a state of slumber, rather than pacing over thoughts of such a snake on Christmas Eve.

A subtle defense carried her voice onto deaf ears, "Sirius, it's not that, it's just that my dream-"

"You don't ever listen to your dreams, so why pay attention to them now?" he opened his eyes to roll over onto his back and stare at the dark ceiling. "Truly, Hermione let it lie," he pleaded. He wished her mind was elsewhere rather than with him.

Hermione returned to the bed, realizing that Sirius was now taking the situation the wrong way and she felt compelled to immediately soften the moment with him. She sat on both knees, leaning over him while placing both hands around his cheeks, framing his face like a fallen angel. "No, no…it's not like that. I'm with you, this is different," she implored.

She looked into Sirius's eyes, but she could not read him. A state of untrusting settled in him, curious why she held such deep affection for him after all this time. He pacified her with a gentle pat on the wrist and she bowed her head in thankfulness of his understanding. He was lying.

Focused on her past and what Severus once meant to her, she needed to write an owl. Something to warn him of coming events, if what her dream said was true. Never before had she truly listened to them, but they were never of horrible events about to take place. They were always subtle references of what "might be" or what "could be" and she took them for granted. Now, if she didn't write this owl to Severus and something terrible did happen without her warning, then she'd find out the truth of them in a rather dismal way that, all this time, her dreams have been predictions.

Hermione left Sirius and the comforts of the bed they shared and went to the desk to quickly scribble down a message on a piece of parchment. After sealing it in an envelope she turned on her heel in haste to find Hedwig, dashing out of the room like an angel on a mission. Her striped socked feet took the steps carefully, both with caution in the dark and stealth to not wake her fellow housemates. She rounded the banister to the back door where she immediately found Hedwig perched on a low branch in a tree in the garden. The cold blast of air hit her skin that she stifled a chill and a query to how animals could get used to this.

She signaled Hedwig over, tied the note to her leg and offered an owl treat for the journey. With a gentle hoot, she spread her wings and took flight into the wee hours of the morning with the cold hitting her feathers and the moonlight dancing over her black onyx eyes.

Feeling a slight sense of relief as she watched Hedwig disappear into the sky, she sighed to herself over the agony she briefly felt. Her heart weighed heavy like she was holding a guilt she couldn't take blame for. If anything, Severus would probably never know the actual truth of the dream and she seeing his death, that he'd never appreciate or understand the gesture. Even though she shared a bed with Sirius, she once loved Severus Snape deeply and sometimes the past couldn't be erased.

Quietly, Hermione returned to Sirius's bedroom, assuming that he was already fast asleep. Closing the door, careful not to make a sound, she looked upon the heavy comforted bed as his form occupied most of the bed, having moved a little bit onto her side. The low riding sheets that fell to his waist exposed his sexy strong back as it faced her. Smiling to herself, she was content to have sent the letter out to protect one man she cared for while slipping back into bed next to the man she loved.

His stiffness and subtle coldness indicated that he was not happy with her dreams, nor pleased with her insistence. She sensed his discontent over her correspondence and felt like he was emotionally exhausted over it. Gently, she settled around him, adjusting her head on the top of his pillow and draping her arm around his waist, while leaving feather-light kissed over his shoulder. She wanted him to know, he was her only one.

Once she'd left the room, he'd simply rolled over and gone back to sleep, not waiting for her to return. An empty stirring in his stomach wasn't comforting as it nearly nauseated him to talk it out with her. He refrained, fighting his unsettling and reached for her hand; hugging it to his chest to feel her fingers near his heart. His slight state of slumber had momentarily awoken from his pouting to feel her touch; he did not wish to appear ungrateful for he yearned to have all of her attention. He'd been alone for so long, his intimacy with her meant more than he could put into words and that was why he had to hell her what he wanted from her: for her to fall in love with him.

There was no denying he had fallen deeply in love with the witch who pressed up tightly against his back. It still sounded so foreign in his mind to actually love someone, because it had been over twenty years since he'd been in that place before. Unfortunately, the last woman he was in love with was also a member of the Order, Marlene McKinnon. She was killed two weeks after the group photo was taken that had been given to Harry. Though he thought of her fondly, he prayed that history would not repeat itself.

0o0o0o0

In the Great Hall of Hogwarts, Hedwig swooped low over the tables that were occupied by several students that had not gone home over the holidays. She made a dramatic entrance as all eyes were on her when she narrowed in on her addressee.

With many other owls in her company, Hedwig swooped in low and circled the Gryffindor table out of habit like she always used to when she'd look for her owner. After a graceful turn, she flew low over Professor Snape and dropped the letter in his unsuspecting hands.

Snape quickly turned up to see the familiar owl and gave her a light scowl. The last thing he wished for that Christmas was to receive any kind of correspondence from one of his least favorite ex-students. Still, he remained to be an important part of Hermione's life so looked down resentfully at the perfectly folded letter.

He glanced over his shoulder to the small group of students who had just received care packages and mail ordered items from the Weasley store, and carefully unfolded the letter. He recognized the script immediately and his eyes were drawn to it like a vampire to blood. He hungered for it to be a love letter, to be words of admiration, anything but something hateful. But, instead it was neither. If anything, it was a caring letter, telling him of her dream she had. It wore on her to be of urgent importance and she begged for him to see her through this.

_Dear Severus,_

_I write to you with haste over something that might happen in the future. Please, for a moment, disregard our conversation yesterday and hear me out. You told me to listen to my dreams, no matter how stubborn I am with them, so I'm doing so now. I'll tell you later, but I'm begging for your understanding in this matter that I need you not to return to Spinner's End. I fear that your life may be at stake and after all this time of neglecting my dreams, I will not do so now. I do not know why and I cannot tell you what, but if I ever meant anything to you, please follow through with my request._

_Sincerely,_

_H._

Snape reread the letter over and over again, watching the way her y's and her f's gave a nice familiar curve. He wished it was something more than her pleading for him to follow an order, but he couldn't help but read between the lines that she still cared. For a moment, his heart fluttered fleetingly when he recognized her script. He had hoped it was something more, something more loving, something even requesting his company at a dinner to discuss things, but it was not there. As black and pale as the parchment was, she only professed a request that he not return home over the New Year.

Should he do the defiant thing and go home and wait to see what her dream was about? Nosy as he couldn't help to be, she'd since ceased speaking of her dreams to him. On the other hand, her dreams often made predictions of her future, of things to come, and she hadn't said a word about them either. Could they quite possibly have involved him? She had a dream about him to not return home, which lead him to believe it was not the first of many. Perhaps she'd dreamt of how she and Black would terminate their pathetic relationship and how the war would end and there she'd be with open arms? Perhaps she'd dreamt about a marriage together, children possibly in the picture? There was no telling. But, one thing was for sure, she dreamt of him last night and he was the key player in her imagination. A key player, like a few other times, that he was her shining star. Could it be that she was just suppressing all the dreams that she didn't want to face and were centered on him?

His lips smirked pleasingly as he pictured Black broken hearted and himself holding her hand once again. It appeared that in the end, he would be the stronger wizard in her life. And Black, well, Black could go off and find another tart to prey on. Such a self-centered being of adulthood lost hadn't the range to feel emotion from his level, for he was still stuck in his past of troublemaking and irresponsible childish antics.

_Sorry, pup, guess I'll be the wizard she chooses._


	31. Christmas Day

-1_A note from Serade Black:__ So, I've got a few more chapters to go, but believe me, I've got the ending written. I predicted only about four more chapters, but it looks like I might make it up to forty chapters total, at this rate. Many of you reviewed how much you disliked, or felt sorry for, Snape. I'm glad I've written him as such, since I'm not a normal Snape/Hermione shipper. I put a lot out there for Snape fans to criticize my writing of him, but I'm happy to say that I'm honored I gave him justice._

_Just to clarify the purpose of the dreams, I've written them for a few reasons, 1.) Because the know-it-all always trashed the class. Now at a time when she should have paid attention, she's at a loss for what to do. 2.) Because I believe it helps the story along [for me with plot twists as insight to what is about to happen some time down the road. Be careful not to read into the dreams, because I've done a great job making them as neutral as possible, so you don't know who is who. I love reading your predictions, because it helps with my consistency. With long fics like this you often forget where you "put" things._

_SB._

Ch. 31 "Christmas Day"

The street of Grimmauld Place was quiet outside, except for the random traveler zooming by in their car meeting up with more family. The lights were on in number twelve, but no one knew. Inside, the house was bustling loud and very much alive. Never had there been so much cheerfulness under that roof in Sirius's presence. Laughter filled the halls up to the cathedral ceilings like a thick fog rolling in. The portraits even joined in with the holiday jeer, offering hugs and drink all around from frame to frame. Pollux Black even put his sourpuss face away for the day and smiled. Though it was a frightening sight, Sirius said, when several small children crawled between portraits and quickly crawled away crying throughout the house.

It was barely eleven and eggnog was being passed about after a huge heavy breakfast Molly and Fleur had cooked for everyone. From waffles to croissants, they covered nearly every major breakfast food between England and France, displaying them elegantly on the table over ancient Black china. Once the two ladies placed the food on the table, a pack of hungry wolves devoured the wholesome food like it was the first time they'd had a well cooked meal. Granted, it was the first time Fleur had offered her delicacies to the family tradition and they were well received by chewing mouths and stuffed cheeks.

Afterwards, the entire crew carried on into the parlor, where the enchanted Christmas tree with blinking lights and lit candles flickering, harbored presents for all the gathering friends and family. Red and green garland dressed the aged portrait frames and oversized stockings hung traditionally over the fireplace. At the end of the menagerie of socks, the thirteenth addition hung with the name "Sirius" blinking clearly on the white fluff.

Hermione stopped Sirius under a piece of mistletoe that had been hung and stole a kiss, "This is what we've done for the last six years."

Like a mute child, Sirius watched life changing around him in silence. Dazzling warm smiles, gentle hugs and good well wishes between everyone created a positive stirring deep within, that he nearly felt like an outsider looking into something that was not his. Like something he'd seen on muggle television, the environment created around him was nearly impossible to believe and he was nothing but a stranger. A far cry from the fake laughter, boasting and bragging of his known family. No more stuck up cousins preening for their own blood. Just a genuine family atmosphere with purebloods and muggleborns alike, sharing the same pot of coffee for his first family Christmas.

Fred started to sift through packages of all sizes that rattled, hummed and lay flat there under the Christmas tree. He started to hand out, or toss over, presents to their owners, searching for a certain one for Sirius. Wrapped in familiar paper that his mum seemed to never run out of, he picked up the present and tossed it up to Sirius, who still stood from the outside looking in next to Hermione.

Sirius caught the package unexpectedly and held it tightly in his hands, knowing that whatever was inside was going to be cherished. Hermione squeezed his arm, encouraging him to tear into the wrapping properly. With a twinkle in his eye, Sirius gave a side smirk and tore into it as Hermione clutched his arm eager to see what it was.

The garment fell unfolded in his hands and he held up a knitted sweater in the shade of burnt red with a big "S" weaved onto the front. The entire family laughed and applauded, removing their bathrobes and revealing all their sweaters with their initials sewn in.

"Now, it's official," Harry announced from sitting beside the fireplace.

Sirius was deeply touched to have received such a ghastly sweater, that he was without words. His fingers ran over the clever stitching, committing the feel to memory as Hermione dragged him further into the room. He felt like he was walking on air and as the murmuring of family members around him laughed, teased and thanked, an overwhelming emotion filled Sirius pleasantly.

Hermione plopped down on the sofa, Sirius close beside her, and together they accepted gifts passed to them by hand or air. Occasionally, between thank you's and you're welcomes, Hermione would glance over at Sirius, who never seemed to stop grinning like a Cheshire cat. Like a guardian angel, she was elated for his genuine happiness as she noticed his slight dimples in once-sunken cheeks.

A few times his wandering eyes would steal his interest away to his new motorbike that sat parked in the hallway like a royal throne, patiently waiting for jinxes and spells to make it fly. His mouth practically watered for it, thanking Harry repeatedly for such a thoughtful gift. Sure, Sirius could have gone out and bought one for himself, but it was the gesture from Harry that meant more to him than he could put into words. Having Harry buy him a motorbike was like reminding him that his efforts as a youth did matter. It stood as a symbol, with its shiny chrome and long leather seat, that Sirius did have a life before darkness fell. A jovial young man that left professors second guessing, women wanting, and parents doubting. His name was like a curse, but his heart was true and bold and he sacrificed his favored possession to help assist in the saving of Harry's life, the night the Potters were killed. Such a small price to pay for something he couldn't imagine living without: Harry's love and devotion like a substitute father.

Momentary teasing jealousy, over the motorbike, forced Hermione to place a gentle hand around his chin and jerk him back to the moment. With a whisper in his ear, she reminded him that the silly bike would still be there after all the presents were opened, but his first family Christmas would not. His eyes widened like a scandalized child, correcting her that his bike was not silly. Raising his chin in an arrogant manner, he kept a watchful eye on her as he ripped into an unknown present like a crazed lunatic, shredding paper all around them.

Sirius's heart was joyfully heavy with the company and camaraderie. Long from the dressing up in their finest to receive one present that had been passed down through the generations, constantly being reminded that he and his brother Regulus were part of the Noble House of Black and all that entailed. A sly smile crept over his lips as he teased with the idea to go and drag his mother's dilapidated old portrait down from the attic, just so she could see what they were doing in her living room with playful laughter and bright cheery decorations not fit for the normal funeral décor.

Hermione glanced over at him as he watched everyone quietly, lost in his thoughts like a dreaming child. She felt the reassuring pat of his arm as it wound around her, pulling her in close to him as they relaxed on the sofa. She knew he was happy. She could tell he was content. He was alive, he had his companion nearby, Harry close and a real warm family that accepted him, even with long shaggy hair. He was nearly complete with a life he never thought possible, but only dreamt about it while he passed the time in Azkaban all those years ago.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Nearly noon, Hermione had finished putting her presents away in her room. It took nearly an hour to find something to do with an exploding make-up compact that Ron insisted she have, but every time she'd set it down somewhere, it'd open up and puff out make-up dust. She hated not to have it out, displaying her regrettable gratitude, but the more she moved it, the more it got excited. A couple of times it nearly emptied itself out all over her curtains. So, for the time being, Hermione found a rubber band and bound the compact, in order to tuck it away into her vanity drawer. She'd have to find something to do with it another time.

She fluttered around her room, picking a few things up, while getting ready to go over to her parents' house. She normally spent most of Christmas day with her muggle family, but since Sirius was home and her mother had a house full of relatives that had no idea she was a witch, Hermione decided it was best for her to split her time up that day The question was now, should she ask Sirius to come with her? She didn't have this problem last year, because it wasn't until after the New Year did she and Severus get together. Instead, she had to sit through several lectures from different aunts and uncles about finding a boyfriend.

Traditionally, that was what they were supposed to do. But this time, she felt like showing them up and bringing along her older, rugged looking, bad-boy boyfriend with tattoos on his fingers. She bit her lip at her spitefulness, but he was her current love interest and it was only fair to expose them to what she was happy with. She knew her parents wouldn't judge her right off the bat, but it was another question later when she would sit them down and discuss with them how she met him in the first place. She only hoped her mother wouldn't notice the barcode tattoo on his neck and believe it to be some dangerous wizard gang.

Reverse the question, what was Sirius like with those situations?

She ventured down the old stairs, sliding her hand down the thick oak railing as her fingers lightly touched the garland hanging from it. Around the banister, through the parlor and out to the back garden she followed the tinkering sounds of him diligently working away on his motorbike. The cool breeze of the icy season chilled her enough to fold her arms over her chest, pulling her short coat tighter against her. The day wasn't warm enough to spend all of it outside on such an involve machine, but Sirius was determined to get his new ride finished as soon as he could.

Her brown eyes studied him meticulously, as she watched him kneel before the metal contraption, with shiny rims and wide handlebars, ceremoniously. Strong arms beneath a long-sleeved thermal shirt held the bike steady as he tightened unknown bolts tighter and tighter, then exchanging his wrench for his wand.

His voice whispered quietly as he murmured spells under his breath, squinting his eyes and concentrating on difficult areas he could not reach. With every slow stroke of his wrist with a rhythmic flick like he was conducting an orchestra, he tilted his head gracefully. Long brown-black locks fell into his face like a made composer deep in his work.

Genuine admiration for the brilliant mind kneeling on cement intrigued her and she felt compelled to speak to her dark angel, "Will it run?"

Though it was chilly outside, Sirius had worked up enough strokes to allow a single bead of sweat fall over his brow as he was pleasantly exhausting himself over his old hobby. He flipped his head back, shaking the hair from his face and grunting like a strained animal as he changed from wand to wrench again. "Of course, it'll run. I'm just adding," he tightened another bolt, flexing his forearm muscle. "Not subtracting." He was tired, but he was determined.

He finished with a heavy breath and then looked over at her, smiling as if he hadn't seen her in far too long. He knew the past hour had occupied him and that he should be tending to the family, but everyone knew he was ecstatic to have this new toy, so they allowed him his little joy.

"Where are you off to, looking so pretty?" he asked with a twinkle. He picked up his wand and started to recite another levitation charm, but kept an ear open to listen to her.

"I was going out. I have to go to my parents' house to visit relatives. You know, traditional stuff," she explained, watching his steady concentration. It still impressed her that though he played rough, he was still a very clever wizard. She heard him say some unfamiliar spells and listened more carefully to try and decipher them.

"Ah, huh," he agreed, still heavily concentrated on his enchantments while moving the handle bars like he was oiling the parts and wanted all the magic to get into it.

"So, I know you're tied up in this, so, I wasn't sure….if you maybe wouldn't mind…" she tried to beat around the bush. She really wanted him to come with her, but was already set up for the let down, incase it wasn't his thing. It might have been a little too early to do the family thing with him, but since it was Christmas, she had to put it out there.

He continued to whisper his incantations to his bike, while a sly eye peeked over at her. With his free hand, he picked up a rag and started to wipe down his wand as well as some spots on the bike he noticed might have gotten dirty in the process.

"Are you asking me to meet your parents?" Sirius simply asked, as casual as commenting on the weather.

He had hit the nail right on the head and the look over Hermione's face was proof of that. Momentarily speechless like she'd forgotten how to talk, she looked at him like he's just said something completely obscure. Her jaw worked its hinges, but nothing came out.

She was stunned to see him completely drawn into his project. Grease stains on his face, the wand working over time and various tools scattered around him like he was there for the long haul of putting this thing to its top performance, and he changed gears instantly. He had planned on staying out there all day, it appeared, but as he seemed to be cleaning up with a light flick of his wand, she realized he was immediately dropping it all for her. She had expected to go back and forth a bit longer, beat around the bush some more, then finally, maybe, get an answer that he'd rather pluck out his eyebrows or something. Instead, he was refastening various extra parts he had next to him back onto the bike, like he was closing up shop.

"Well, I thought you'd want to stay with your bike…" she tried to explain, still watching him with amazing eyes like saucers. He was dropping everything for her.

"No," he shook his head, "Do you want me to meet your parents?"

She felt that fluttering feeling in her stomach again, like the way one does after their first kiss. She was completely taken by him, by his gesture to spend the rest of the day with her, with her muggle family, putting off what he'd talked about all morning.

Sirius saw how surprised she looked over such a miniscule gesture. Her eyes practically twinkled for him, glistening there in the cold afternoon that she reminded him of an angel from heaven with her hair blowing wild in the breeze around her soft face. For a split second, he doubted himself that she was looking at him with that kind of compassion and he quickly wiped his hand to pull her chin towards him for a kiss.

"Yes, yes I do," she managed to get out after her affectionate jump start. He never looked more beautiful to her with how he was so focused on doing what would make her happy.

Their faces were still close and she could see his deep blue eyes on her like the stream of a wand, bewitching her madly in love with him. He stole another quick kiss before standing up and walking passed her., "Then, I'll clean up and we'll go."

He was already inside, leaving the door ajar when she realized that he was gone. Her movements were slightly delayed by his unexpected change of interest. She found herself following close behind him through the parlor, up the stairs and finally into this bedroom, trying to warn him, as if he hadn't thought it out properly. She felt like she was leading him to the wolves, her muggle family, because though he would be irresistibly charming, she didn't think he thought it out long enough.

"I have very affectionate aunts," she said, as she tried to fit herself on each step with him as he took it at normal pace.

"I'll wear cologne," he quickly remedied with a casual voice as he climbed the stairs.

"My parents are dentists," she eagerly informed, preparing him for her family history.

"I'll smile a lot."

"I have young cousins that might be taken with you!"

She was hot on his heel as he turned on the landing to go to his [their room. She practically latched onto his back; she was more jumpy than a Chihuahua vying for attention.

"I'll keep you in sight."

"They don't know I'm a witch!"

Sirius stopped once he got to the center of his bedroom and turned to face her. Like a cartoon, she was so busy trying to explain as much about her family as minutes would allow, she ran into his chest like a brick wall, bouncing backwards with her hair in her face. Sirius reached out, moved all her hair away and framed her pretty, worried face in his palms, trying to calm her.

He shushed her to quiet down, kissing her forehead briefly to get her attention. He looked down at her as she waited patiently for him to decline her offer, still not believing he had no intention of changing his mind.

"Do you want me to come, or not?"

Her face was alight as if he'd just threatened her feelings for him, "Yes! Yes, I do-"

He cut her off in mid sentence before she could open her mouth one more time. He took the opportunity to silence her the only way he had learned how to. Her arms fell to her sides like a boneless rag doll and he kissed her the way he knew she would be absolutely lethargic. He slid his hand around her neck while his other hand roamed down the side of her body like a tempted snake. Up under her shirt he ran his rough hand over her soft firm belly as small sounds of erotic torture murmured from her lips.

Like a ghost he was gone, pulling away too quickly for her body to realize and was left standing there with her arms around nothing and her face turned up into the air.

"Give me ten minutes. Oh, by the way," he said, coming back over for a quick kiss as she was still poised, "I'm driving."

Hermione stood in the center of the bedroom, feeling like she'd been taken for a slight whirlwind. She hadn't expected that procedure to go so easily with him. She expected a little more coaxing, believing it to be the last thing he'd want to do. But to her surprise, he said nothing more on the matter and she could already hear the shower turning on.

_Did he just say he wanted to drive?_

"We are not taking that enchanted motorbike, Sirius Black!"

Fifteen minutes later, they were bundled in leather coats, scarves and gloves for the trek across London. She had lost sorely about the transportation debate and found herself being instructed on how to properly mount a motorbike.

Sirius looked like a king sitting on his mobile throne as he situated himself comfortably onto the potentially loud contraption. Hermione held her arms crossed over her chest, feigning impatience as he glanced over at her with dark eyes and a familiar mischievous smile that made his lips look dangerously enticing. Matching him with a smirk, her eyebrows raised a question, but his playful wink assured her she was going to be safe at all costs.

Releasing a sigh of defeat, she placed a hand on his shoulder and swung a leg awkwardly over the motorcycle. Her small rear fit perfectly in the long seat between her legs and she placed her feet on the pedals provided for her. Naturally, she wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tight as if she were spooning him in bed. A gloved hand gently squeezed hers before taking hold of the handle bars.

Without even making a move, Sirius yelled an incantation and the bike started up under them like a sleeping monster awakening. It roared loudly and unnecessary, but at this point, she gathered he was just stoking himself up after a long hibernation. She could practically feel him smiling, for she couldn't see his face.

"Please don't do anything foolish," she yelled over the engine, hoping he'd hear her.

"I have very precious cargo, love. I wouldn't," he assured, with a brief glance back at her.

She felt his body shake with a good barking laugh and with another strong powerful rev of the engine, he kicked off and they were off speeding down the street like a bronco being released from the gate. Hermione squeezed him tight, bowing her face away from the blasting cold air and nuzzling her nose against his leather jacket.

"No flying!" she yelled again, feeling momentary fear.

"Not ready, yet!" he called back and added a few more kilometers of speed as he took a right turn.

Like a roaring lion, the sound of the motorized mechanism reverberated between the rows of houses, echoing all around them as if they were in a tunnel. The growling machine caused her thighs to vibrate from the hard working engine between them, creating a sensual sensation she dared not think of at the present time. The reality of speed of fear met her forcibly as she clung to the older wizard desperately

Sirius stopped at a four way and checked on her. With one hand he squeezed her arm and with the other hand pulled her chin to his lips as he looked back at her, quietly calming her and reassuring that she was safe when she was with him. A small nod told him she was ready to go and with a moderate speed he took off down the road again, following her directions as she called them out.

The wind whipped her hair, but found that if she rested her chin on his shoulder, she could enjoy the ride better. Feeling as close to him like they were only one person controlling the bike, she opened her eyes when he settled on a speed she could handle. Her unsettling nerves started to subside as she argued with herself mentally over the new experience of riding on a motorbike. It was just something she was going to have to get used to for, having the package of Sirius and all that entailed included his new shiny present. And for that…she found peace.

Her eyes opened confidently, watching the roads ahead of them unwind like a newly laid map in a cartoon. The cool air kissed her face like a winter angel, keeping warmth by pressing tightly against Sirius. She felt dizzy and light when the wind caught her breath and, for a moment, the sensation rekindled memories of flying with him on Buckbeak the night he was rescued from the tower. A mere few hours after meeting him for the first time, she remembered the polite placement of his hands on her waist when he sat behind her to fly away.

The hypnotic ride opened the memory door to the night when she first met the man she clung to so lovingly. The dark night of discovering all the truths behind so many questions from saddened, frustrated eyes in the shrieking shack. Sirius was terrifying.

A dark aura framed the dangerous convicted escapee as a mournful voice erupted through the tilting building. His eyes were cold, empty and lost and he hungered for nothing but revenge. His best friends were sold-out by the weakest link of his small quad. She could still see Sirius shouting at Peter Pettigrew about how he would have died, would have sacrificed himself, than to betray his friends. Such a brave remark, there was no doubt he wouldn't do it, by the look of the commitment in his face when Remus saw the truth after all these years. A true friendship rekindled.

She remembered hiding behind that tree and watching Sirius and Harry's souls getting sucked out by the lake. Harry swore that he saw his father that night there at the lake, but it turned out to only be himself from the future summoning the patronus charm. She was fearful she was going to lose her best friend that night, having watched his potential death, but grateful Harry did what he had to for both himself and for his godfather.

Then there was the frightening ride on Buckbeak that Harry insisted would be fine. She remembered climbing up and holding onto Harry very much like she was clutching onto Sirius now. He showed no fear, just determination and drive to free the only family that truly cared for him; it was inspiring. They landed lightly on highest tower and once they were grounded, Hermione jumped off and ran to the gated door to free Sirius. Such a poor depressed man with matted hair, sunken cheeks, and not an ounce of spirit in him, until he saw _her_. She went to the gate, pulling on the bars to see if they'd let, but it was useless. She stepped back, aimed her wand and blasted the gate away, feeling a sense of danger within her.

Hermione remembered the way he looked into her eyes as he stood up from gravel bed slowly, not believing he was going to get out. Then he saw Harry standing there, hopeful, eager and hurried. Sirius nodded and knew that time was against them and they had to go. They didn't discuss why, but he just hurried out of the cell, ushering Hermione back to whatever they flew in on. For the first time, both she and Harry heard Sirius laugh. He had never seen such an animal before and immediately bowed before it, assuming it was the type of creature that expected it, seeing as the obvious plan was to ride him.

Hermione remembered looking at Harry with a dumb grin, as if watching the scene of prisoner escapee and hippogriff making friends to be the oddest thing so far that night. Harry just smiled and shrugged his shoulders, as if what else were they to expect. What Hermione really saw was Harry getting a father. With eyes of hope and admiration, Harry already had a fondness for the new man that immediately offered Harry to come to another home. At least this way, he knew he'd be able to discover anything and everything about his parents from someone who knew them the best.

"Alright, Hermione, get up!" Sirius said, offering his knee for her to climb up on Buckbeak. He immediately assumed she needed help.

"Thank you, but I can get up there fine. But, I'm not sitting in the front!" she said, as if it was out of the question entirely. She stood firm, watching her Time Turner and waiting for the other two to get up.

"Hermione, you're the lightest, just get up!" Harry shouted as he ushered her to take his godfather's assistance. He knew now, how time was against them. He didn't want Sirius to get caught again.

Hermione huffed and stepped on Sirius's knee. At first, she lost her balance and almost fell backwards, but his arms immediately reached out and caught her. She felt his firm hands around her back, catching her like he was dipping her in a dance and she remembered that moment, to be the first time she noticed his caring eyes. Such a subtle gesture, but she saw it, and he pulled her back up and assisted her up onto Buckbeak. From that moment on, under the tattered uniform of someone to be forgotten, Hermione was smitten. It only took the few moments they shared, but it was entirely one sided. For at the time, she was merely thirteen and Sirius was thirty-four.

Sirius climbed onto Buckbeak behind her and pulled Harry up when he got his balance. He sat so close to her; space was limited with three people, correction two teenagers and an adult on the back of a hippogriff. She could practically feel his breath across her neck, his thighs barely touched behind her and his energy was enough to knock her right back off the jittering animal.

Once Harry was on safe, Sirius unconsciously gripped her waist, but pulled back as if touching fire. "Sorry, do you mind?"

She shook her head as she looked back and took a breath before adding, "No!"

She'd just met her first puppy dog crush.

He chuckled, "Don't worry, I'll be gentle." She'd never been more scared to fly than ever before.

With a light kick, Harry got Buckbeak airborne and the grown man laughed like a child behind her. They only made one wide circle before landing in the best spot not to be seen to say their good-byes. She remembered landing, having Sirius's strong arms help her down and then dashing away to find a safe spot to talk. Within minutes, the man on the run was back up above them, adjusting his position and receiving the reins from Hermione.

With a flash of his old self, he smiled once again and remembered what Remus had said in the shack, "You really are the brightest witch of your age."

Hermione couldn't speak, she just grinned and backed away to give him more room to take off. Both she and Harry watched him disappear into the dark cloudy sky with Buckbeak and were momentarily awakened by the first gong of the Hogwarts clock, not knowing when they'd see Sirius again.

"I said, do I take a right or a left here, love?" Sirius's voice broke through her daydream.

She still clung to him tightly, now realizing that as they stopped at an intersection he'd again taken a hand off the handlebars and was gently stroking her arm against him. Like a cloud lifting from her head, she took a deep breath and looked around to get her bearings. They'd made it over to her parents' neighborhood, right outside London, while she remembered her first meeting with Sirius.

Hermione shook her head to free herself from bushy locks that had gone a little too out of control, and looked around at the nearby rows of houses she remembered growing up with as a kid. She signaled to the right and off he went, zooming his motorbike too fast for suburban London. The wind was in her face and hair, and she felt her shoulders start to lift off away from him. Sirius laughed as he noticed her tension relaxing and she was becoming more comfortable with the ride. He still hadn't planned on doing any tricks to impress her; he would save those for the ride home, possibly.

They passed a few more streets in the peaceful cookie-cutter neighborhood. Every other house was completely empty, off on holiday somewhere else, or they had eight cars overflowing in the driveway. They slowed down as they came upon some houses that had children playing in the front yard and politely waved as they passed by. Once away and out of earshot, Sirius gassed up again and hungered to feel the coolness against his face. He hunched down like an evil driver, his eyes narrowing on the road before him as if he was on sort of test track, weaving around parked cars, watching for oncoming traffic and enjoying the thrill he got with the mechanical power between his legs. The entire time, Hermione filled his ears with laughter since he was doing all of his dramatics at a very slow speed, looking quite silly. But, it kept her mind off of falling off the back.

Hermione directed him the last few turns to her parents' house and when they turned on her street, Sirius smiled. As he looked ahead at the cul-de-sac, he envisioned a small child with wild bushy hair playing in the leaves with neighborhood kids. Perfect two-story houses lined the road and short white fences displayed front gardens of what might have been pretty floral arrangements. Sirius heard a dog barking somewhere on the street, a friendly bark, nonthreatening, so it told him that they were in a very safe neighborhood.

Sirius pulled up into the drive of the house that had several cars parked in front. Hermione didn't say otherwise, only that she wished the motorcycle had a mute button for certain times. She could only imagine what her parents were going to say if they knew she'd come in on such a vehicle. Although, they might give her a break, once they discovered it was enchanted and nearly foolproof when it came to staying out of accidents.

The two of them got off the motorbike after Sirius parked to the left of all the cars, out of sight through the window. They adjusted their coats, scarves and hair to look less windblown. She watched as Sirius's posture started to straighten, like he was about to embark on some kind of militant mission, when Hermione realized that under that "cool" he was actually very nervous. She sighed when she saw a small bit of the frightened man through those teenage eyes from years ago, but smiled in her heart to know that he was so much better now.

"You know, I was thinking about the first time I met you," she said, reaching out to hold his hand. They walked up to the doorway, but she wanted to fill him in on the memory.

"That night in the shrieking shack, right? What a terrible first impression," he joked, clutching her hand almost as tightly as she held his waist when they rode.

"Well, riding your bike reminded me of when we rode Buckbeak together."

"Just wait until I get that thing in the air, it'll be just like it."

They stopped before the door on the stoop and she turned around to face him close, "I was smitten by you that night."

"You were? That night?" he doubted with a cocky grin.

"Yes. Just random thoughts of a thirteen year old," she finished, looking up at him and grinning back.

"I just got out of prison, I wasn't ready to go back!" he added as he kissed the back of her hand through her glove between them. "Though, I do remember thinking what a pretty young girl you were."

"You did?" she asked, biting her lip and hoping for a kiss.

He nodded and smiled, "I guessed you were either Harry or Ron's little girlfriend." After he conceded to a quick kiss, they turned to go into the House of Granger.

They stood in the foyer of a well-lit house with beige walls and contemporary artwork. No regal tapestries or torches lining the hallway, but standard electric lights and framed still photographs of the family were mounted around them as they unbuttoned their coats and scarves. To the left, a neat living room with standard couch and loveseat were positioned like a muggle store catalogue. A piano sat against the wall with a few more photographs displayed on top. Sirius could picture a young piano protégé sitting perfectly straight, playing the best of Beethoven, while her doting parents applauded proudly.

Hermione took his hand and pulled him deeper into the perfect little stationary house, glancing at portraits that remained confined and frozen in their frames. Though he'd seen it before, it was hard for Sirius to look at them without thinking they were going to blink back. They'd gotten to the end of the hallway, where he nearly thought a hen house had been let out, for the entire family had erupted the second she came into an open clearing of the dining room. One by one, her aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors and small children got up to offer Hermione good wishes and holiday blessings, while Sirius stayed behind and allowed the family greeting.

When two or three women in the house noticed the handsome man behind her, hiding in the shadows, allowing his mistress the attention, they went to Hermione's mother who stood in the kitchen. At the corner of her eye, Hermione saw a few pointed fingers and smiles and she took the hint to quickly get through everyone, so she could introduce Sirius to her parents. The family chaos started to settle down and she reached back for Sirius's hand to pull him through the crowd and into the small kitchen where her mother, father and aunt were standing, as if waiting for their special reunion.

Hermione quickly hugged her parents, trying to get the formalities out of the way as Sirius waited patiently and eagerly to begin his charm. He smiled pleasantly for her parents and leering aunt, who had a slight twinkle in her eye, politely waiting to be introduced.

The pretty young witch took a deep breath, her own eyes bright and proud, and introduced Sirius, "Mum, Dad, Aunt Milly, this is Sirius Black."

"Ah, you brought a boyfriend along this time?" her Aunt Milly asked, smiling coy. Her eyebrows fluttered with intrigue as she surveyed the wizard up and down in his charcoal fitted sweater, wool pants and black boots.

"Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger, very honored to meet both of you. Aunt Milly was it, pleasure," he said, extending a hand and putting on his greatest manners.

There was a reciprocated brilliant smile on her parents' faces, which they immediately offered him to call them by their first names, followed by an offering of a beer to Sirius, by Hermione's father.

"Thank you sir, but just one. I am driving," he quickly covered and followed Hermione's father out to the back garden, where they had all the refreshments sitting on a table, allowing the winter chill to keep them cool.

Once alone, both elder women immediately asked about her gentleman caller that looked at her as if she were a queen. Hermione blushed, ducked her head and secretly dreaded answering any questions relating to her love life to her mother or her Aunt.

"Is he the professor?" her mother quickly inquired with a quiet voice, keeping their gossip private.

Hermione shook her head, "No, no, that guy and I didn't work out. Sirius works with me at the office." She hinted, using simple clues, since her Aunt didn't even know she was a witch. Anything said had to be kept very vague.

"I see, so that's where you met him? Though he's quite handsome, isn't he a bit old for you, sweetheart?" her Aunt Milly asked, tipping her head and looking out the kitchen window to watch Sirius talk to her brother-in-law.

Hermione's brow furrowed, not surprised at the remark, and shook her head, "No, believe me, we match equally."

"Does he have a nice family?" Mrs. Granger asked, looking out the window with her sister like two teenagers wanting to find out all the gossip they could in the short private time they had.

"No," Hermione answered curtly.

Both women leaned up from their spying and looked back at her like what she had said was absolutely appalling. Hermione was briefly taken aback by the look she got and quickly recovered, "They're all dead." The two women sighed with relief and nodded while turning back and watching the two men interact. "Except for a couple of cousins he's more or less disowned," the women looked at her again with big eyes, but Hermione was ready, "they were the black sheep of the family, you could say."

"Pity, does he have a brother?" her Aunt asked, pursing her lips when she noticed him bending over in the back garden with Mr. Granger to check out some mulch that he had laid down.

"He did," Hermione added while helping herself to the warm apple cider her mother had brewing on the stove. "He died a long time ago, unfortunately."

The two women composed themselves after spying out the window and returned to the kitchen baking as if nothing out of the normal had happened. Mrs. Granger immediately put her daughter to work and the three women bustled around to work on the fixings for the early family dinner.

Sirius had just finished a rather lengthy conversation with Hermione's father that started with flower beds and ended with root canals and implants. Granted, since his return from prison, which of course remained a secret, Sirius had all his dental work redone and when he mentioned that his dentist's name was Dr. Rocktooth, he was almost laughed at. Sirius quickly covered that he was a long time family friend who no longer practices, which is why Mr. Granger had never heard of him before.

After being excused to check on Hermione, Sirius went back into the kitchen to visit with the ladies, making sure he put the right amount of well mannered charm in, so that he left a good impression. Though he kept a cool and calm exterior, his insides were shaking around more than a malt shop. He still felt like eyes were on him, but realized it was just the frozen pictures that could not see out and his brain was playing tricks on him.

He walked back into the small kitchen that the three ladies occupied as they twirled around from the sink, to the fridge, to the oven, to the stove and finally all collaborating in the center on the island. Pans of all shapes and sizes hung from the ceiling over the chopping island, classic to any muggle home for they were quite stationary and not flying about the room cleaning themselves or being summoned for work. He heard the whirring of the automatic dishwasher, the only kind of muggle magic, as several pots boiled over, creating a thick steam in the kitchen.

"What smells positively heaven in here?" Sirius exuded his magical charisma and as he leaned over the chopping island both Hermione and her mother had taken to chopping up carrots and celery.

"Sirius, compliments like that will get you in fine with this family," Mrs. Granger said, catching a wink from Sirius to Hermione at the corner of her eye.

"So, Sirius, what is it that you do, then?" Hermione's Aunt asked as she chopped tomatoes.

All three women looked up at him as they chopped their individual vegetables like serial killers. They glanced up now and then, watching the handsome man in the kitchen straighten up and slowly back away in case he answered wrong and they revolted against him.

"The same as I. Detective work for a private company, very quiet company," Hermione intervened, before Sirius said the wrong thing to the wrong woman. Her mother already knew that he was in the same line of work, so she was honest to say how they got together. But, it was another thing to drop the bomb on her that he was Harry's godfather and actually six years younger than Harry's father, seeing as he didn't age the entire time he was gone floating in a black abyss and that he had done thirteen years hard time. That explanation was for another night with a big margarita.

Sirius watched how careful Hermione was with her family. She projected the image of the perfect daughter, dressed in simple neutral colors, beautiful smile, slim physique, established and independent. A small smile crept over his lips as he watched her explain to her Aunt was it was they did, carefully beating around the bush, without giving away their secret. The air in the kitchen was warm, filling, and Sirius cherished his private moment like one would when they were seeing the world around them for the first time, again. Such simple, brighter times and these were the moments he fought for. These were the times when he wanted to be loved, admired and adored, not to be taken for granted by a cheap witch in a bar that could possibly be the greatest one night stand of his life. All that was in his past and he wouldn't go back to that for all the galleons in the world. He had so much more self worth, these days.

The front door slammed shut and all conversation came to a halt as all eyes went towards the hallway, waiting to see who had done it. Sirius started to feel anxious when he heard the sudden interruption. In walked Mr. Granger, his brow furrowed, his eyes narrowed and his shoulders were hunched in a defensive manner. He rounded on Hermione in the kitchen and immediately her eyes bulged when she realized his target was her. Never had she seen her father act with such character, it was almost frightening.

"Hermione Jean Granger, did you arrive here by a motorbike?" he asked with a very stern, but calm voice.

Hermione opened her mouth, almost afraid to speak, as all eyes were on her. Over a dozen family members watched her carefully, waiting to hear her answer, but then their curiosity went to the gentleman she brought along with her.

"Yes," she said meekly, waiting for her father to berate her and lecture her to the size of a pea.

"Sir, if I may, I assure you she was in the safest care, she was in no danger-"

Mr. Granger turned on him and started, "That thing outside is yours?"

"Yes, sir."

"My daughter rode on the back of that thing, that Harley-Davidson Softail with all chrome accents, maybe 1450 cc engine?" Mr. Granger asked as he came in closer to Sirius, "Well, I'll tell you one thing, you better get a sissy bar put on that thing if you want my daughter to ride it with you."

"Dad?" Hermione asked, first angry that he was turning on Sirius and then surprised that he knew anything about motorcycles to even pronounce the word chrome.

"Can I ride it?" Mr. Granger asked, dropping his character and immediately reverting back to the softy he really was. He looked at Sirius like Santa Claus on Christmas morning, teasing him with a really big present that he could almost open. "I mean you drive it, of course, and I sit on the back?"

Sirius broke into a wide grin, sighing big and dramatic that it wasn't anything worse, just a dentist with a childish side. Feeling relaxed and confident, Sirius let out one of his familiar bark-like laughs that made Hermione break into a smile to meet his. Family members around the room started to chuckle, having totally been both convinced their host was angrier than a bear awoken before the end of hibernation. Small conversations started to erupt around the dining room and kitchen, as they never guessed Mr. Bernard Granger would be a motorcycle enthusiast.

"Bernard! Have you lost your mind?" his wife, Hermione's mother, asked once she caught her breath again. She had stopped everything in mid chop, leaving her knife suspended over a dangling carrot.

Mr. Granger turned to both his daughter and his wife, "Oh, come on, Margie. Our daughter is dating a man with a motorcycle!" he exclaimed. "How dangerous, how daring, how adventurous!" It was obvious that Hermione's father was not at all upset over what she brought home to meet; he was otherwise riveted that she wasn't only the book smart girl he raised, but also an adventure-hungry woman that lead an exciting life. "I bet he's got tattoos. Do you have any tattoos?" he asked Sirius like a loon. Laughing, speechless, Sirius only nodded. "Piercings?" Repulsed, Sirius shook his head, creating a momentary disappointment in Mr. Granger.

"Bernard!" Mrs. Granger called out again, she couldn't help but smile over the way her husband was happier than a pig in mud fluttering around the room, bragging about as if his daughter had just won the Pulitzer.

"Dad? Daddy?" Hermione asked, coming over to lay a hand on her father's shoulder, double checking that he was okay. This was a side of him she'd never seen before, when he wasn't acting goofy on purpose. But, before she could get a word in, he was ushering Sirius out the front door to show off his bike even more.

The rest of the family, small children included, emptied the house faster than if it was on fire and pretty soon the house was quieter than if no one else was there, only the ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room. The remaining women, Hermione, her mother and her Aunt looked at one another in silence. One by one, each woman started to display a creeping smile and soon they were all laughing amongst themselves. Outside, the roar of Sirius's motorcycle entertained the crowd of family that gathered on the lawn to watch the head of the house take a ride for the first time since he was a teenager.

"So," Aunt Milly started with a raised eyebrow, while chewing on a thin carrot stick, "Does he have any tattoos he can't show us?"


	32. Dangerous Truths New Year's Eve

-1_A note from Serade Black: __ I really didn't want you all to go as long as before without an update. This is shorter chapter, but it was because I needed to end it where it…ah…ends. I'm trying really hard not to give away too many answers to the ending, but I love your predictions and theories. Enjoy SB_

Chapter 32

"Dangerous Truths"

The ancient clock in the parlor struck its nineteenth hour that night. The house was filled with quiet meetings all about within the portraits and Sirius tried to focus on his game of wizard's chess with Harry, but he was lost in thought. He kept glancing up at the door, waiting to see her, waiting to hear how her Gauntlet training went or at least just have her walk through that door in one piece. The training course had been brutal and Sirius managed to get by with only one backfire, but that was him and she was her.

He'd known Hermione to be a very intelligent witch, but he couldn't help but wonder that the fact that she was just that, a _witch. _She might have the disadvantage when up against larger sized challenges, not to mention that she was still very young. His cousin always managed to scrape by, but that was because of her incredible gifts. Hermione was mostly book smarts and Sirius couldn't help but doubt the teachings of a leather bound book with parchment sewn inside compared to experience.

Just when his King's rook was getting a major demolition, the front door swung open with bright cheer, a vast difference when his mother or father used to glide on through it. Hermione had appeared as if she had skipped the entire way home from the Ministry as she flew into the arms of Sirius who stood there like a worried father.

"Well?" Sirius asked loudly. The suspense was killing him, but he was sure she was fine with the way she smiled so big, he could see her molars.

"Ninety-eight!" she quietly said with glee.

Sirius's face cracked, so very pleased with her, and picked her up to swing her around. Harry had managed a brief congrats, genuinely happy for her, but mostly just intrigued by the heroic strategy of the game.

"…and?" he pulled back with her in his arms.

"…and we both get sworn in at the end of next week!" she supplied to him.

After squeezing Sirius again, she broke away to hug Harry who waited patiently next to his godfather. He smiled proudly, never doubting his best friend, and wished her the greatest luck in her career ahead.

Hermione had passed with flying colors and managed to receive the same score as Sirius. Both nearly tying for the best score, no one had completed the Gauntlet lately and received a final number so high in years. It was only fitting that it would be either of them, let alone, both of them.

0o0o0o0

_The large grandfather clock that once stood in her parents' house ticked away. Back and forth went the pendulum, each tock ticking away another second. Hermione rested her head back against the divan cushion, notes and scribbles on parchment lay over her lap, and she escaped for a moment as she closed her eyes. The silence warmed her as exhaustion started to take over her body from a hard day's work. _

_She teetered on the brink of a nap when she heard a small familiar explosion coming from the upstairs. Her eyes flew open and she mechanically moved all her notes off her lap, like she'd done it several times before and rose to her feet, quickly dashing around the banister and began the round flight of stairs._

"_You are going to be so grounded, mister! You'll wish you were old enough to disapparate right out of this house when I'm done with you!" she yelled out with threat._

_She made it to the third floor and swung around the left to the last door. With no introduction, she opened the door to find the same young boy standing in front of a small chemistry table with different herbs and ingredients at his disposal. When he heard his mother come into the room, his eyes were as big as saucers, his black hair standing on end, smudges on his face, his hands still holding two vials and the cat sitting on the table with it's tail smoking._

_Hermione had prepared to raise her voice at the young boy with black ringlets, but she couldn't. Instead, she just shook her head, a half grin over her lips and said, "You're so much like your father."_

_When the little boy heard his mother's voice not yelling at him, he let his shoulders fall with relief until his face lit up again. Hermione looked over and Severus Snape had joined her and the two looked at the boy together._

"_Look what he's done," Hermione said as casual as the weather._

"_Well, at least he's got talent," Snape said nodding his head and observing the mini disaster._

0o0o0o0o0

She looked radiant. She looked fit for royalty with the way her white knees length dress coveted her body like a perfect present. A smooth thick silky fabric wrapped around her shoulders, tiny buttons down the front and cutting in an A-line to the tops of her knees. With a new pair of slight diamond earrings and matching tennis bracelet that Sirius had bought for her, her hair was swept up off her shoulders in a curled crown with pieces escaping their clasps after vigorous dancing she had participated in before the clock started.

Sirius set down his drink when it was announced that it was one minute before the New Year. He'd shed his long blue velvet coat to allow his body to breathe better, wearing only his favorite maroon button up shirt with Mandarin collar. Hermione told him he reminded her of a gothic Dracula with the way his shirt sat around his neck. His charming response nearly drowned in expensive champagne was only a hearty chuckle followed by a teasing nibbling on her throat. Hermione was elated, giddy and enchanted with him.

Holding his hand, she interlaced her fingers with his as they reached forty-five seconds before the New Year. She wanted no one else at her side but him. His scent filled her euphorically, and he never looked so sexy than he did right then, counting down with all the other wizards and witches that had gathered at the Three Broomsticks for an elegant night in a shabby establishment. Harry and Ginny had joined them at the party and she sensed that they weren't far from them in the pub, but Hermione couldn't look away. She could only see the main wizard in her life with the hypnotic blue eyes and dark eyelashes.

Thirty seconds to go, their interlaced hand went behind Hermione and he used it to push her closer to him. The other hand gently wrapped around her neck; a light finger stroked her earlobe as they counted together. He was mesmerized by the light movement of her lips, calling to him like a writer in love with his muse. Her fresh young skin was like satin under his touch and he could only imagine the two of them intertwined worshipping each other like two lovers on their last day on earth.

Ten seconds and she was wrapped into him, feeling his breath over her face, inches away from his lips. He enticed her like a phantom of her dreams, the past few nights blissfully haunting her as he physically slept beside her, telling stories of Adara and Rigel getting into mischief in the old house Sirius had shown her.

She never heard the children's names in the dreams, but if she kept feeling the way she did at that moment with him, she hoped they were his. The black hair, the sharp features, the occasional trouble they'd get into; how she'd hope to feel such security within their fathers'arms, like she did right then within Sirius's. How strongly she willed Sirius to be in the dream at the same time. She'd occasionally awoken confused and slightly distraught whenever the children ran and hugged Snape, who was very vivid in the dreams. Sirius would be there, never at the same time, but he hugged the children in a similar way. It was hard to make out, who the kids respected more.

Five seconds to go and Sirius held her tighter. The buckle of his pants pressed into her stomach as his arm hugged her in. The young witch looked up at him, nearly breathless with how intense he was on her. She was his only focus, his only light, his most treasured companion. He practically looked into her soul.

"Five…four…three…two…one!" the room shouted.

"I love you," he said breathless and kissed her fiercely.

"Happy New Year!" all the magical beings in the room cheered, hugged and kissed.

Hermione had never felt so filled. His hand touching the skin on her neck burned with excitement, her fingers searched blindly as they slid up his chest and she practically whimpered into the kiss. The sounds around them started to fade out like everyone had left them alone for this moment to cherish. The first thing he said to her for the New Year was his declaration of admiration and she wanted desperately to return it.

If only he'd stop kissing her for three seconds.

Fighting for air from the thick seductive gesture, she managed to press him away while his arms still wrapped around her. He wasn't afraid she'd bolt; he just wanted to convey his passion physically, not just verbally. Her eyes opened to his dashing blue ones and she bit her lip nervously. He was not waiting for her response, he didn't expect it. But, he still wanted to hear what she had to say.

Drinks clanked around them, people sang in the wrong key together drunkenly, shadows hid forbidden snogging and Hermione saw no one else but Sirius Black standing there before her.

She was calm again, excited within, but calm nevertheless. "I've been in love with you, since the first night we made love."

Sirius beamed, though he feigned regret that he had been so blind until tonight. Actually, he wanted to tell her how he really felt the night he found out about Snape. How it sickened him to imagine Snape entwined with the witch of his heart. That's why he had nothing more to say on the matter, other than what he wanted from her. Love him, that's all he wanted her to do. Take him as he was. Ignore the taboo and forgive him for his flaws. Sirius Black was in love with Hermione Granger.

0o0o0o0

"We haven't heard from him," Shacklebot said casually while biting into an apple.

Hermione had just come into the break room of the Auror floor to drop a few hints to Kingsley about the upcoming Order meeting. Plans had gone on their way about a secure and well-planned raid on the warehouse Snape spoke of, but they were still waiting for a definite date. Apparently, no one had heard from him in several days and school had already resumed from the holiday break.

"What do you mean? Hasn't McGonagall wondered where he is?" Hermione asked again, as her words flew out of her mouth faster than an auctioneer.

"It's only the first day of classes resuming, so she managed to get another teacher to fill in for him for the time being," Kingsley explained, trying to hide the sound of worry. It sounded like he'd had his doubts about Severus's absence as well.

"Well, has anyone tried to look for him? It's not like he'd just vanish, unless-" Hermione stopped her own sentence. Her dream with Severus in it was so vivid, it frightened her in the middle of the night. It plagued her mind that night and she had written Severus an owl about it. Maybe he didn't adhere to it? What if he'd seen her writing and nothing was done? What if…he was dead?

With a start, Hermione turned on her heel and went to seek out Mr. Robards, her boss. Trotting down the hallway, she passed Sirius who tried to stop her, but she pressed on and continued to force herself through the door without any introduction.

"Sir? Can I have a leave for the rest of the day?" Hermione begged, assuming that it would be all right to just take the rest of the day off.

"Miss Granger, you cannot expect that we can just let you come and go as you please. You've just completed your training, and now you've got to set a good example to such a privilege. No, I'm sorry, you may not leave. This is important, too," he was firm on his answer and barely looked up from the stack of papers he was sifting through. A quick quotes quill levitated nearby awaiting his word.

She tried a few more times to make him budge, but he was firm on the fact that she'd taken too much time off this last week for the holidays and was expected to stay at work for the next five hours without any rebuttal. The air left her lungs with the idea that she had to remain chained to the desk while other things floated on her mind. Defeated, she returned to her desk and fell into the chair with an ungraceful thump. Ron had the day off, so at least she had her solitude to dwell in.

"Hi, Sirius," a romantic voice tried calling out from the next cubicle row.

"Hello, Loretta, good Christmas?" Sirius answered politely. He'd just made his way to her row to come and speak to her.

Sirius hung over her cubicle wall, his arms dangling before him and his chin resting on his elbow. His hair flopped in his eyes boyishly and when she met his grey-blue eyes it made her smile. He tilted his head to inquire what was so important, but she hummed down the answer, telling him she'd discuss it later. He read her body language that she wanted to be alone over whatever it was that was so trivial and decided to push the issue later, and not while at work. He gave a quick cluck of his tongue to get her attention again and she looked up to watch him mouth, "I love you." Like warming butter, her shoulders fell, her lips smiled and her heart couldn't help but leap into a light flutter like it used to in the beginning. Rather than mouth the words back, she stood up and lightly kissed his lips to answer him. Satisfied with that, he winked and turned around to leave her to her own work.

Even after lunch, the idea of Snape's whereabouts concerned her. It weighed heavy on her mind, wondering if he even got her owl, or if he even took the time to open it and give it a chance, not just toss it away once he recognized her handwriting. He'd done her wrong by causing such a painful argument with Sirius, but it was a two way street by she not informing Sirius this information. In the end, it was an insulting blow to Severus over her lack of honesty to her current beau, insinuating that she was not proud of the past she shared with him.

This was not true. The truth was that at one time she felt very strongly for Severus, she even loved him at some point, but it was never declared as often, or as confident, as it was now. With Sirius, though the declaration was still new, he managed to whisper it in her ear as light as a dog whistle, but somehow she knew he had said it. With Severus, it was always so random and far between that when it was said, it always felt like there was something attached, like there would be a reasoning for it if anyone where to hear it, that was not aware of their relationship. Her relationship with Severus was kept private, for the most part, where as Sirius held no qualms with holding her hand in public. Even to go so far as to stealing kisses when in the kitchen, even around Harry, or just brushing his hand along her lower back at work to keep it still businesslike.

But, a gut feeling in her stomach reminded her that she still did not have closure with Severus. Something still lingered in the air between them, otherwise she wouldn't have reread the same sentence of a document four times and not have been able to recall two words of it. This lack of not knowing his presence, even if they parted last on unsaid words, did not make her feel at ease. She glanced up at the clock and saw that she still had two hours before she was released from duty and still two hours left of the final paperwork before she was sworn in as an Auror in the next two days. Sirius had already signed, sealed and hand delivered his documentation, but it was Hermione that wanted to go through it with a fine-tooth comb, taking up a lot of valuable time.

Looking about, she saw that Robards was still busy in his office and Sirius was nowhere around. She quickly drew out another piece of parchment and started a brief note.

_Dear Severus,_

_We've not heard that you've had a good Christmas. Please let us know when a good time to catch up would be._

_Sincerely,_

_ Hermione G._

With a sealed stamp from the Ministry, Hermione sent her letter out by owl and hoped it got to him, wherever he was. She had a strange unsettling sit in her stomach and had nothing to explain for it.

No reply came back to her and right away she concluded that something was wrong. When her hour to leave approached, she quickly gathered her things and sought out Sirius. Suspending just a little white lie, she told him she was running an errand for Robards and that she'd see him at home. Taking her word for it and not questioning it, since he was knee-deep in goblin translation with Kingsley, he kissed her briefly on the lips and watched her leave the department faster than a free wand sale at Alivan's.

Hermione only knew one route to Spinner's End and she used the London Underground to get there, rather than apparating to the nearest area that was safe. She walked the three blocks from the station to his street, making note of the rather dodgy looking houses that were on his row. Vacant households with empty barrels by the front door indicated that nearby neighbors had long since left. It'd only been a few months since she'd visited him, but her dreams told her otherwise and she wanted to be on constant guard if anything were suspicious.

Spinner's End was as dead as the nearby residents and she walked carefully up the broken stone walkway to the short front door. No candles were lit, the bins were empty, the shades drawn and nothing indicated that Severus had been there for quite sometime. However, when she neared, she noticed the front door had indeed been affected by some mechanism. It felt like a combination of both magic and any ordinary breaking-in device a criminal could get their hands on.

Hermione slowly pulled out her wand from beneath her coat and held it close to her body, ready to strike if anything were to come at her. She quickly glanced over her shoulder, making sure she was still alone before pressing against the dirty brown door that lead into Severus's house.

Immediately, the smell of rotting flesh met her nose and she cringed with disgust. A wall of foul smell made her pulse jump into quiet hysterics as she replayed the worst case scenario over and over in her head. With the door open all the way, the light coming in only allowed the sunset's remaining rays that were nearly hidden behind the horizon. She illuminated her wand as she stepped inside like a timid animal pretending to be strong. She stepped on crumbled papers and broken glass from frames that had fallen. The portraits were vacant, some torn, others lay disregarded and shredded on the floor.

Hermione's heart was about to jump from her chest as she envisioned herself coming upon the body of her ex-love, mangled in odd painful positions, all alone. She found herself swallowing her pride, raising her chin high and aiming her wand at any shadow that might have been another wizard. Her palms started to sweat and her hands began to shake the further she stepped into the house, fearful that her owl had come way too late for Severus to adhere by it.

By the look of his old family home, her dream was spot on. From broken dishes, ripped canvas paintings, trash left behind to the smell of rotting flesh in the air…she swallowed her heart when she saw the wall ahead of her.

"_**Don't Defy Him"**_

It was written in bold blood, long since dried, but still very distinctive. Hermione nearly dropped her wand she was shaking so much, her ears were ringing, her heart was split and she doubled over in uncontrollable pain from within, catching herself by the firm remains of a half burned sofa. As her hand touched the cushion, memories flooded her like a portkey of when she stayed in that very same house, believing to be safe and secure from the outside.

Several nights she'd been snuggled against him when he was just coming home for a break from Hogwarts for the weekend, and the only thing he'd wanted was for the two of them to sit in silence and read together. He wasn't one for too much romance, as the company alone meant more to him than all the required relationship doings necessary. She in turn, felt the same. Though she preferred to be out and about together, discovering things, meandering in old book stores, and an occasional dinner; Severus was always more of a homebody.

The feelings of resentment were flooding back into her. She feared that she would never hear his low drawled voice that she found just as erotic if he were calling roll. Memories of their time together, their love making, their split and finally his heart on his sleeve when he admitted that he feared anyone coming back into her life, all created this heavy guilty burden. _Why did she feel like this? Why did she still care so much?_

Her eyes started to water, her throat dried and she felt like the stinking rotting carcass was the obvious answer to all of her questions. She dreaded using her wand to lead her further through the house to find him. She felt bonded to the divan that sat still and alone in the unforgiving house that she shared so many special moments in, only to discover his ending so poorly. Remembering the dream and a clue to his being a "turncoat", her eyes roamed around the room and settled on a short bookshelf before the stairs. In the dream, a picture of her sitting on a bench looking up at the viewer sat on a shelf. In real life, the picture was not there. She looked on the floor to see if it had been crushed or knocked over but the only thing on the rug were broken vases and other abandoned portrait frames. She was nowhere to be found.

A stirring was heard from the kitchen and Hermione held her breath as she tried to quickly clear her mind and act wisely in this situation. She would stun them, she planned, hoping that whomever was about to be at the end of her wand tip would greatly pay a frightening scare when introduced to such a powerful witch. How she mentally cursed the vagrant who had taken residence in this forgotten house so quickly after a slaying, that she fought the urge to burst in through the doors and end his life early for him, hoping he'd regret stepping foot over the threshold.

"Lumos!" a low voice called out before she could.

Hermione shut her eyes, fearing that the spell was more than just illuminating their wand tip. Her stomach flipped, she waited for her skin to melt off, but nothing happened. She slowly pried one eye to open and whispered, "Severus?"

"Hermione? What are you doing here-" he managed to whisper loudly, before being abruptly tackled by strong female arms.

She felt the huge weight lifting from her shoulders and broke into a never ending rain of heavy tears. She threw her arms around him like she'd not seen him for years and pulled the fabric of his cloak tight in her fingers, fearing that it wasn't really him. His masculine scent, his coarse hair, his chest pressed against her in a familiar manner.

"Hermione, what is it?" he managed to get out, while holding her tight in his arms like a long lost friend.

She didn't hear him ask why she was putting herself in the unstable state she was in. Her body shook in his grasp; her whimpers were quiet as silent tears ran down her face and onto his wool cloak. Her arms squeezed him tight, yearning for him to do the same, but she was nearly hysterical with relief when he'd used his familiar words to sooth her like he used to.

"Hermione-"

"I thought you were dead…I thought you were gone. We didn't hear from you and I thought…I thought," her words were desperate against him, hoping to be consoled like an unloved runaway.

"I went away because of your note," he answered simply.

Her breath caught in her throat, her nerves started to subside and it hit her like a milk truck when she'd comprehended. Slowly, carefully, timidly, she pulled out of his arms, but kept her hands pressed firmly against his chest as if still not sure he truly existed. She thought he was dead. She looked up at him with wet doe eyes, fearful and afraid, wanting nothing more than to know that he was really there under her grasp.

"You did? You got it in time?" she whispered, almost not believing the sound of her own voice as weak as it was.

He looked down at her, like she'd just asked him if stars came out during the night and nodded. He couldn't understand why she was so concerned for him like she was, shaking like a scared child. He felt compelled to reach up and run a caring hand around her cheek, but the moment he did, she held it close against her face. Out of habit, she turned into his hand and left small kisses into his palm affectionately.

"I did," he whispered, physically still from her reaction.

"Then," she sniffled, but did not remove his hand. "Then, what is that smell?"

Snape glanced upstairs and said, "A raccoon came in through the broken window and died upstairs. It's not a human that is rotting away, I assure you."

Hermione met his eyes, relieved that she still was able to touch him and know that he was safe and home. She shook her head, knowing that how she was acting was wrong, but needed to, she had to, she wanted to so badly…

…she kissed him.


	33. A Magical Commitment

-1_A note from Serade Black__: I might have shocked a few of you with the last chapter. Well, it was time some cages got a little rattled. A friend, and reader, Magenta, made a comment that sometimes you have to do things because the story calls for it. Though this is a Sirius/Hermione story, sometimes things happen (or end) in a way not expected. I'm not trying to deter readers, believe me, the Sirius/Hermione fans will get what they want out of this story to carry on into the next big epic novel I'm going to write about the pair. I have learned not to be too predictable, to take chances and to play with foreshadowing. In my stories, I know I'm not perfect with loopholes, but I'm going to make that an author's choice. I hope you are all still enjoying it, I imagine the ending will come about in Chapter 38. SB_

Ch. 33

_**A Magical Commitment**_

Like an old song being played over and over, a familiar sensation for both of them filled their hearts. A rekindled permission to allow hands and strong arms to envelop one another like two lovers separated for an ungodly amount of time. The rush filled him as he felt her body push against his with a restrained maddening.

Young flesh once again graced his fingertips as he gently caressed the back of her neck, slowly swiveling her from left to right to all around, teasing his tongue around her lips, waiting for the signal to push on. Feeling her pressed up against him was euphoric; it had been centuries since he'd touched her.

Her response was unexpected; he was elated. He felt like her time was limited by the way she tore into him like a crazy mad woman with the way she ran her fingers through his straight locks. Like cool water on a hot summer day, his skin felt alive and refreshed having found his comfortable familiar in the young witch he still loved. Eager hands ran down the front of his robes, clutching the fabric desperately before pushing him away.

Gasping for air like she'd been submerged under water, his arms still remained wrapped around her. Their beating hearts nearly loud enough to be in sync; she turned her head away from him. It was wrong.

"Hermione?" Severus asked breathless. His eyes burned on her as if seizing the moment that was so quickly escaping them. A thick air filled the room and decomposing spirit.

Her eyes closed solemnly, slowly shaking her head and silently admitting that what she had initiated was very very wrong. Guilty adrenaline pulled her out of his familiar hold, taking small steps further and further away so he could not reach for her.

"I shouldn't have done…that," she whispered lightly. The dim light of her wand showed her dismay.

"It's all right, I know," he began, "I know you still love me."

Hermione's eyes slowly met his, wet and sad, "It was never a matter of love, Severus."

His brow narrowed, dropping the pleading face and his lower lip quivered for a more extensive answer. He could see she was in denial. Or maybe, he wanted to see her denial.

"Everything is against us. I can't live like that. I can't live in fear. I just can't love you, anymore. I'm with Sirius."

The mention of the other wizard made Severus's skin chill, knowing that they were now a taboo. They'd broken the bond of witch and wizard for her and Sirius, and now Severus was the other man. He hated the marauder enough to take the risk, but he saw the look of hurt in Hermione when she'd realized what she'd done.

"You should be with me," he answered simply with no remorse.

Averting her eyes, she shook her head. A vision of Sirius looking hurt and betrayed filled her imagination and she could almost hear his voice dismissing her. Like waves crashing in on her, she was torn over whom she loved and the one who she always felt a strong pull from. Both were completely opposites, no rhyme or reason to why or how she was drawn to them. Both had captured her heart in some time, but it was the present she needed to pay the most devotion to. Sirius needed her, like she needed him and there was no time for a discussion.

Her emotions had taken her over and once again, she had played to her weakness and hurt Severus in an unspeakable way. She couldn't have plunged the dagger any deeper than she was about to.

"I can't," she said hurt. With the little strength she could muster, she lifted her heavy head up to meet his gaze, "I'm in love with him, Severus."

Like a stake in the heart for the second time, Severus turned even darker than the dried blood on the walls around them. He was still clothed to leave at any moment, but felt that he needed to find out what was left between them, if anything. What was the truth of it all when it came time to choosing? Did he see it, or did he only wish to see it?

"But, you…"

"I thought you were dead. I got ahead of myself," she tried to explain. Silence came between the two of them and her thoughts steered to the picture that gave him away in the dream. The picture that wasn't sitting in the same place, but remained vacant and waiting, "Where's the picture?"

Severus still watched her intently as if waiting for her to come around again. "What picture?"

"The picture that sits there on the bookshelf…the picture of me sitting, reading…"

Severus looked away, as if slightly ashamed she had discovered he still kept picture of her around. He never had them out when they were together, but only started to put them out to remind him.

Focusing on anything but her, he believed that she only knew about it was by seeing it in her dream, "It's back at Hogwarts. I only bring it home, over the breaks, when I stay longer."

His confession of just her picture was enough to tug Hermione harder, feeling it weigh heavier on her heart than she had wanted. "Please," she begged blindly. "Please let us just move on. I didn't mean to kiss you, it was just a weak moment of mine and I," she took a deep breath, thinking it out in her head. "I just let you in. I'm sorry."

He was silent, he barely breathed. His lips still quivered from her taste and his insides were burning to touch her, just her hand if he could, but she was still too far away to make it a casual brush. He wanted to curse Sirius; he wanted to take Hermione away with him to somewhere no one would find them, away from Hogwarts, away from the brain of the Death Eaters, away from the Order headquarters, away from Diagon Alley and away from any bit of the wizarding world. He briefly thought long and hard about any place he knew where the two of them could reside as muggles and denounce their magic ways all together.

"Don't be," he said without expression. His mind was still searching for that place.

She refrained from allowing her eyes to tear and kept a straight forward face for him. Although, she couldn't meet his eyes again, once she saw the pain and heartbreak she'd left in him. Their bond had been strong once, and it wasn't something you could just erase. She'd always had feelings for her previous potions master, she even loved him at one point, but it was the magical world around them now that kept them apart.

Then Sirius Black came into her life.

Sirius Black, her best debate partner at any Order meeting, the black to her white, the leather to her cashmere, the night to her day. He was, to say the least, her equal match. She pictured him at home, probably sitting on the couch reading his book he tried so hard to hide from his godson that might hint that he harbored a sensitive side, or outside in the back garden, jinxing his brand new motorbike to fly. She mentally smiled to herself that no matter how cold it was outside, he'd still find a reason to be outdoors, smiling to the skies, grateful he was free and clear and no longer a hunted man.

She loved him.

"Then what about your dreams, Hermione?" His voice broke her train of thought. It was obvious her mind was no longer on the man standing with her in the dark, dirty, destroyed room of Spinner's End.

Jolting her out of her daydreams, afraid that she might give away what she held most dear these days, she shook her head and looked back at Severus, "Sorry?"

"Your dreams. I see that you've been having incomplete dreams, again?"

Thinking back on them and then slowly letting it sink in that he had seen her dreams. A blank betrayed look graced her face and she said in almost a stage whisper, "You promised me you wouldn't do that to me. My thoughts are private, Severus."

"I promised only when we were together," he stated vindictively. "As you've made it clear, I'm no longer the love in your life."

There was a silent exchange between them. Hermione briefly felt her sorrow for him lift the more she noticed the jealous change in him over who was going to win the battle with her. She believed it petty and to be a private invasion.

"I see that you're having dreams about a house-" he started to ramble off as if opening her up to the skeletons in her own closet.

"Stop it," she cut him off with a fierce whisper.

"A man? Children? Who's the father? I see a man in black-"

"Severus, don't!"

"If you didn't want people to invade your dreams, you should have attended Potter's poor _Occlumency _classes. Two children I see? What else?" he pried as he started to circle around her like a preying lion.

Hermione tried her best to block out anything she didn't want him to see. Not her dreams, not her thoughts, not her feelings, not she and Sirius making love on the stairs.

"Horrifying," he lulled with a dull voice. "I've just seen how Black defiled you on the staircase."

Frustrated and spent, she held her wand up to him, "Stop it! Those are my memories, Severus."

"You block out the picture, Hermione. You've never allowed yourself to see your children's' faces for longer than a few seconds. You never stay in it long enough to see who the father is, do you?"

Severus started to come closer; he walked right into her wand, knowing that she was never going to cast anything on him. He watched her nearly shivering and going through the emotional mental ride she was creating for herself as she stood there, like an unstable child. Her wand arm weakened and her lower lip quivered defiantly against him, with no words to accompany a frightened face when presented the truth.

He tilted his head like a sardonic joker, "Or have you?"

Hermione found the inner strength she needed to stand up to him and his vicious taunts. His final question rounded, invading her personal space, teasing her like a bully and far from the person she once loved. Though she was glad he was not dead, she did not enjoy this belittling he seemed to be playing at so harshly.

"I'm not going to say," she found her voice. Though not a strong one, she at least made sure he heard it.

"Know this, Hermione. Your dreams are not something that has already happened, or what might happen. Your dreams, your gift, tell the tales of what _will _happen. I see it in your eyes that you are confused and bewildered by what you see. Memories yet to happen? People in your dreams playing roles you do not know yet?"

"Stop it!" she nearly spat. He was close enough to kiss her, but she'd slap him the second he tried to use that fowl mouth on her.

"What are you going to do?" he baited. His nearly black eyes narrowed in on her so maniacally she saw the shadow of a man she could never love again.

Hermione felt his mental probing had reached its end. He appeared to be feeding off her fear, but the more he turned into this character the more she wanted to push him away. Guilty thoughts only turned to Sirius and the time she was spending away from him as she remained in the destroyed family home of Snape. He had no grip on her, so she turned and went for the door. He remained still, but focused on her.

She reached for the door handle, looking back and seeing him stand strong and regal amongst the tattered remains of a hopeful house. His hair fell in front of his tense shoulders, his arms were folded under his wool cloak and he looked nothing like the man she had kissed only ten minutes earlier. The softness about him had escaped along with the security of the house and he watched her leave, like it was going to be the last time, but it wouldn't be.

"The truth hurts too much, Severus," she said before going out the door.

Severus absorbed her words carefully and then let a sly smirk lift the side of his lips, "For you or for me, Hermione? If we're to be together, why fight it?"

Hermione heard no more and left him alone in his darkened dilapidated home with the broken frames and decomposing carcass. She rounded the corner to the safe area and disapparated down the street from her home, number twelve Grimmauld Place.

Comforting, familiar gates smiled to her as she crossed over the threshold to the hidden home and pushed with all her might through the front door. The house was quiet, still and most of the lanterns had been extinguished. She went up the stairs and into her room where she undressed for bed, having just felt completely drained and wanting nothing more than to go to sleep. It wasn't as late as it felt, but there was still an unsettling amongst the house that did not bode well with her. There was no laughter from the hallway, no wizard's chess being played in the parlor, no complaining portraits and no dishes being clanked. All was still.

She slipped on her bathrobe, loosely tying it around her waist for the short trip down the hallway to Sirius's room. With an easy push, the old thick wooden door opened and revealed Sirius sitting on the edge of the bed. He leaned over resting his elbows on his thighs and shuffled his palms together over and over again restlessly. His head was bowed and he appeared to have been waiting.

He hadn't changed, he was still in the same clothes he wore to work, his scarf still hung loosely around his neck and his blazer behind him on the bed. His slumped shoulders and exhausted physique alluded he had receive bad news or something was on his mind.

Unsure if he wanted her company, she stayed in the doorway and leaned against the doorframe. She knew he could sense her presence, but Sirius was quiet, like he'd been deep in thought for quite some time. He didn't stand up, he didn't even look up at her from where he sat, he just kept smoothing his hands over and over again.

"Where is everyone?" she finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Out for a pint."

"And you didn't go?" she asked, coming into the room and closing the door behind her. She walked around the bedroom and started to untie her robe to lay it over the vanity chair.

"I followed you," he quietly said.

Hermione froze in mid unrobing, but quickly composed herself to allow the garment to fall off her shoulders. Swallowing nervously, she waited to hear him say more before confessing to anything that might do worse damage.

"Why did you go to _his _house?" Sirius asked, quite calmly. His body was relaxed, showing no signs of anger, but still she treated him like a careful timid animal.

"You know where he lives?" she asked softly. Her bosom raised and fell under her sleeping gown steadily, cautiously. She sensed that any minute

"Of course I know where Snape lives. Why did you go there?"

_Don't lie to him._ "Because I thought he was dead! I had dreams…and you told me never to neglect my dreams…so, I didn't." She nearly stuttered over the truth of the situation. It pained her like someone had stuck a pin in her heart over her gasping words to him. No matter how she put it, they still sounded like guilty words dripping from her tongue.

"And was he?" he asked quietly, almost as if he'd asked about the weather.

"No. He was out of there in time."

"Pity," Sirius said in almost a lyrical, poetic voice. You could hear the sarcasm dripping from his moistened lips like sweet melted butter.

There was an uncomfortable pause between them. Sirius stared at the floor before him, still folding his hands together while Hermione stood frozen and worried while watching Sirius carefully, ready to step back the second he boiled over.

Hermione was tired of defending Severus, making herself look guilty based on her past relationship with him. Sirius sat in the same boat as she when discussing him, for the last words he wanted said in his own bedroom were to be about Snape. He wanted to hug her, kiss her, remind her that she was his witch and not someone else's to share.

Her voice reached the pitch of a whispering mouse, but she was still heard, "Is this how it's going to be all the time?"

Sirius jerked his head regarding her question, as if she'd just asked him to give her a kidney. He immediately stood up, teetering on the brink of dancing with that other animal that dwelled inside of him desperately clawing to come out, but instead he refrained. His insides, his temper, his rage shook within like a caged animal desperately fighting to come out, but Sirius fought back the urge, remaining cool and calm.

"I should ask you the same thing!" Though his exterior was mildly calm, the little vein in his neck started to twitch.

Hermione looked at him longingly like one does when they are completely in awe of someone. Her curls waved around her shoulders as she shook her head lightly. Her eyes watered, but she did not cry, and her lower lip stiffened as she tried to think of saying the right thing that would make this better. Instead, she just shook her head again, as if reconfirming her sentiments.

He looked beautiful in her eyes, so dashing and so handsome. His taut physique under dark pants and maroon fitted sweater played well for his charming aristocratic character. He wore two onyx rings over his tattooed fingers and thumb and wore a necklace that once belonged to James's father years ago. His black hair fell over his shoulders slightly disheveled and appearing like he'd run a hand through his locks one too many times this evening as he waited for her. His youthful appearance had long since returned to a much healthier body and the more he started to fit back into a routine of a normal life, the more it sat well with the rest of him.

A doubting betrayal was beginning to pass over his eyes, studying her and wanting nothing but the truth to come from her lips. He'd put himself out there for her, he'd confessed his love for her and the only thing he wanted in return was for her to reciprocate. He had a glimmer of fear that maybe he had been wrong and she quickly tried to squish all belief otherwise.

"No. I want to be here," she professed as she crawled over the bed to him.

Like an anxious cat, she walked over to Sirius on her knees, reaching out for him to see if he'd shy away from her. He remained still and stern. Even standing on her knees, he was taller than she and his grey-blue eyes bore into her like an ancient mystery and she wanted him to see her soul. She wanted to tell him that there were no more worries, no need for doubt and more importantly, no returning to Severus Snape.

He never said what he saw; only that he knew that she had gone there. His character, his cautious demeanor, led her to believe he may have witnessed the kiss and wasn't ready to say anything about it. Maybe he saw the kiss, but saw through it, the way Hermione felt it - like a lost cause. The kiss truly meant nothing to Hermione, it was purely out of habit and out of worry that she lunged at him. The way she kissed Sirius was nothing compared to what fleeting emotion she gave Severus, because there was no mistaking that her heart belonged to Sirius Black.

"I'm a man, Hermione. I'm not a boy."

She watched the way faint crow's feet lined his eyes, showing years and years of solitude. Hope filled his eyes over the memory of her reciprocated words of admiration. His scruffy day's facial growth added a dark, mysterious, alluring shadow over his face and her hand subconsciously reached up to touch him. Her eyes trailed over his jaw line, down over the barcode left from Azkaban imprinted on his neck and down over his mature physique that confirmed her desires.

"I want to be here, Sirius," she ran her free hand down his chest and gripped the fabric of his sweater. "I want to be with you."

He couldn't resist his pretty young witch, because he knew she wasn't lying. He knew with the way she grabbed at his clothes and ran her fingers down over his stubble that she wanted to focus on just him. Her vulnerability kneeling there in her skimpy nightgown symbolized her submission to his every desire.

Sirius allowed himself to take her up in his arms, embracing her like he'd never touched her before. Her skin was so soft under his hands like smooth silk and when she nuzzled her lips against his neck, he was breathless for her. She always managed to make his toes quiver and the deeper they went, made it even more difficult to ever possibly turn back. It wasn't her fault if her past love still came around, taunting her of their past like a sore forgotten lover. In the end, it was going to be all too clear who the better wizard would be.

"I've fallen in love with you," she confirmed again, with a heavenly sound.

Sirius felt the encompassing warmth of ancient magic, creating a euphoric stir within him.

"Say it again," he whispered husky.

Her kisses along his neck traveled back to his ear and she breathed in the words of admiration like an enchantment. She heard his breath catch, felt his arms wrap around her like an angel with wide wings and nestle her head within the crook of his neck.

Sirius was slowly nearing a full recovery, but not just from being away in the Veil. An all encompassing recovery after years and years of solitude, misery and blackness. Emotions had been nonexistent where he was, both in Azkaban and his floating abyss of nothingness where he'd been less than six months earlier. The wind outside made tree branches tap a rhythm against the windows in subtle celebration. Women, girls, girlfriends, lovers, dates…they were only memories in his past and he would never look back. When he opened his eyes, he saw her, he saw Hermione Granger, looking back up at him with her heart open, kneeling there in a nightgown that reminded him of Lolita.

He pulled her away, just enough to rest his palm alongside of her chin to kiss her delicately. Erasing all remnants of the previous, burning into her the forever impression of the wizard who would be her last. Sirius had many regrets, had learned many lessons and had no desire to sew any more oats. He'd longed to find that match, that equal, the one he could see holding his hand on his death bed. In Hermione, he yearned for her to be that person, if fate allowed it.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"Now, be sure to show those Americans how we take no prisoners, all right, son?" Sirius ordered, keeping a hand on Harry's shoulder as they pulled away from strong hug.

Harry smiled, his green eyes beginning to water before the man that he longed to have more in his life. He seemed cheated, in a way, that he was all grown up now, a full man, and Sirius had missed so much of it, but it was the way his godfather still looked at him after all these years. Did he still see James, or had he finally moved passed that and saw Harry for what he was - a combination of both Lily and James. Regardless, his godfather's second return had brought life back into him, and he gave most of that credit to his best friend. Thanks to her, he opened his mind again, saw the world through unprejudiced eyes and started a career that was suited for him.

Though he was older now, Harry knew that having Sirius back was like finding your father again and he'd never be too old for that.

"Bye Harry, please be safe…and write! Don't make us go so long without hearing from you this time, or else I'll have to-" Hermione was cut short by nearly being choked to death by the star quidditch player. He didn't have time for long lectured good-byes.

"Bye Hermione, be safe yourself," he pulled back and held onto her hand, "Take care of Sirius for me, all right?" She smiled sweetly and nodded. "Sirius, five more games before spring?"

"Definitely, but only if we get those club seats again. I couldn't fathom sitting in the economy seats," he joked with a sly smile and a wink.

One more handshake and Sirius pulled Harry in for another fatherly hug, finding it harder and harder to let him go. Harry would forever be that little boy he was when they first met in the shrieking shack and he felt like he owed it to Harry to remind him that he was always there, regardless of any situation. But, time was slipping passed and Harry needed to meet up with his team. Life went on.

After Harry's departure, Sirius just stood there still like a statue, watching the door close. Hermione slid back up next to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and letting him sigh under her hold. She didn't know what he was going through, but she could sympathize. Harry was the only son he knew, and time was against them, for Harry was all grown up and had nothing more to look to him for.

"Those days are gone, yes, but you still have to be there for him, no matter what. You're the only father he's ever known and he will always look at you as such, don't worry," she soothed, rubbing a free hand along his cheek as she admired his handsome profile.

"I just feel like I didn't do what James would have wanted me to do. I couldn't raise him the way James would have wanted with the views James had," Sirius explained woefully.

"Sweetheart, you wouldn't have raised him like that, you would have raised him like your own. With your views, with your thoughts, with your morals," Hermione offered.

Sirius looked down at Hermione who lovingly stroked his hair, "Maybe that's a good thing, then? You're right; he'd be totally fucked if I raised him like me."

Hermione smiled and shook her head, "Perhaps, but then again, he wouldn't have had a strong female influence in his life."

Sirius turned them around and they started to walk towards the kitchen, where the Order meeting was about to start. Arm around one another, walking like a couple out for a stroll, Hermione rested her head on his shoulder.

"I'll have you know that Harry would have had plenty of female influences in his life," Sirius continued as they strolled, "Granted I probably couldn't recall their names if he asked me, but they'd surface once in awhile. Let's see, there's the bar wench at Obliviaters, the maid at the Leaky Cauldron, the waitress at…"

"You're not helping your case, Mr. Black. I worry sometimes about the way your children might turn out," Hermione added in a jovial voice.

"Well, why don't your children and my children play together so that your children can set a good example?" He turned her around to face him, her arms around his neck, her eyes sparkling and a smile that was brighter than Miss Universe. "Or why not make my children," he offered her a chaste kiss as his lips grew closer, his voice dripping like honey and his eyes darker than an erotic angel, "and your children…"

"The same children?" she guessed coy. She had an idea where his suggestion was going.

He smiled into his latest kiss, "Well, if you insist." He tore his lips away from hers and took her hand to take her upstairs, "No better time than the present!"

Hermione let out a teasing giggle and barely fought against his playful mood, but when the front door opened and Severus Snape came in, it was like being met with a Dementor.

The smile on Sirius's face fell immediately, still holding his witch's wrist, he added in a passive voice, "Oh good, Snape's here. Let's start the funeral."

The dark somber face that exuded sheer loathing, Hermione could not decipher who it was more for. He only glanced at her when he practically floated by, always appearing like this entire cause was a waste of time on his part. Sirius just let out an unimpressed snort, whispering something under his breath that ended in "git".

0o0o0o0

The Order meeting was deep in the midst of planning the raid at the warehouse. Nearly every Auror was going to be positioned around the building, with only an emergency skeleton crew back the Ministry, in case they needed to deploy them. Molly buzzed around the kitchen, keeping one ear open to the details and another to the sound the pots and pans being cleaned from dinner while the rest of her family and Order members sat at the long table. Several bottles were on the table, having been emptied into ancient goblets over heated discussions over who were going where and what ideas had come about from the Ministry that thought certain tactics were good ones.

Kingsley was using his wand to point out different places on the blue prints of the old building, forcing the plans of each section to pop out like a 3-D model. Molly sulked in a corner, drying a glass over and over again, her ears practically smoking by the amount of danger this put a lot of her loved ones in. Remus took second command as he started to position different people in various places around the building like snipers, ready to strike if needed. Teams were divided and captains were assigned.

"Remus, you're not putting me in the back of the storage corridor. You know I'm just as skilled as the next and I can hold my own. Don't baby me," Hermione insisted, her brow furrowed, catching on to his little tactic.

Standing close to both men as the leaned over the blueprints, Hermione caught the silent exchange between Sirius and Remus. Sirius gave a slight shake of his had and sat back down in his chair, as if there was nothing further to discuss. Her position was not going to change.

Hermione looked back and forth between the two men, her curls bouncing over her shoulders, "No, I'm going out there."

"No, you're not," Sirius said quietly, as if pouting against his mother like a stubborn child with no more say on the matter.

"Yes, I am," she looked back at Remus who hunched over the map like she did and got closer in his face, her eyes like daggers, "I'm a member, just as much as you two, and George and Fred, and Kingsley. You put me where I'm strong. You put Tonks out there, Remus, so why not me?"

Remus said nothing, merely glanced over at Sirius in the corner of his eye. Sirius stared at the map before them, sitting behind Hermione and not looking to argue about anything and was pretty much over the discussion. Without any further words, Remus submitted to Hermione and put her flanked behind Tonks and Kingsley, where the second unit would be available to strike. The first unit compiled of Sirius, Remus, Ginny and George, with Bill, Fleur, Charlie, and Fred making up the third unit. Fellow Aurors filled in the units, as well as the fourth.

Once the meeting was adjourned, some members milled around to dispute certain details, but Sirius kicked his chair away from him, causing it to screech its legs across the cement floor and left the kitchen frustrated and beaten. His departure had caused a small scene and from the corner of the room, you could hear Snape's drawling voice say something along the lines of "stubborn little pup".

Hermione was going over further details with Remus when they both turned to see him leave the kitchen. Remus shook his head at his friend, "He insisted that I didn't use you anywhere dangerous, Hermione. I was humoring him and hoped that-"

"Hoped that I wouldn't notice? Remus, you know me better than that. I pledged myself to the Order as much as he, you, Tonks, everyone in this room. I can't receive special treatment. I'll go talk to him," Hermione said, shaking her head and following behind her "emo" boyfriend.

She heard the back door closing once she got to the foyer and all kitchen sounds were drowning out behind her. Through the parlor and around the study, she opened the door that lead out into the back garden where she'd caught him smoking cigars with Charlie and where he'd taken up hobby of jinxing his motorbike. He sat on the steps, his knees bent and a butter beer to his side. The fabric of his jacket pulled against his back and she admired how well his clothes were tailored to fit such an incredible form.

The winter chill was worse when not wearing a jacket of her own and her Chudley Cannon's hoodie wasn't doing much for her as she stood outside barefoot. She wrapped her arms around her body, hopping from one foot to the next, watching her breath evaporate into the air before her.

"You know you can't protect me, Sirius," she said with a quiet voice, only he could hear.

Light did not meet him, she could only make him out in the darkness sitting there, staring off into the garden ahead of him. He sipped his beer to his lips and sighed.

"I had to try," he replied deep in thought. "It's not your turn to fight. It's ours. You're the next generation and we have to stay strong so you can go on."

"We are and we will. But, you're not thinking of me at all, with this. I made my promise; I made my pledge to do anything in the Order, just like you. Do you think that I want to risk you out there? It's not fair to keep me in the background with big plans like this, and you on the frontline."

He heard a glimmer of panic in her voice, as if what she was saying had only started to make sense now and the more she spoke aloud, the more worried her voice sounded to his ears. He stood up and turned around to face her, placing his hands on her arms and rubbing them up and down to warm her. Her eyes weren't strong like they were moments ago downstairs in the kitchen. She appeared like a fragile, scared young witch who was about to go into battle with someone she cared deeply for. She never felt this way about Severus, and that's what hurt. The honest truth that they were going into this together and, possibly, only one might come out.

"I have to be," he said.

"So do I! We've already lost you once and I swear to Merlin that if you get anywhere near an archway I'll-"

She was immediately interrupted by a forceful mouth and strong warm arms she wasn't ready for. Their union created a magic between them that must have been ancient, the kind you only read in old books, for the moment he touched her lips, she felt a bond with him. Sirius felt it too, and he broke apart momentarily to peer down at her to see if she was enchanting him. Nothing, for the same curious passionate eyes were wondering the same thing about him. Was this a magical commitment they were making in the back garden of Grimmauld Place? A moment passed between them, that for a second, they could see each other's deepest thoughts for one another and it left them both bewildered and amazed that another person could feel such intense feelings for another. Meeting with their lips again, their breath met the air like steam and it almost created a romantic mist around them in the darkness.

The heavy weight of emotions started to weaken Sirius and he pulled away as he teetered on the brink of a heartfelt sob. He placed both hands around her neck, forcing her to look up at him as she gripped his arms that held her so possessively. She'd never seen him like this, never seen him show this weaker side she ever knew existed. Witnessing his unrestrained passion for her, like she was his only reason for life, brought her to tears of her own over his display.

Taking a breath to compose himself from his otherwise weakened display; he pressed his forehead against hers and confessed from his heart, "I don't want to lose you!"

Hearing the way his voice was so strained, she realized now why he asked Remus to do what he did. It wasn't just love for a witch, it was more than that and she slowly understood that when Sirius professed his love to her, he meant his entire body and soul. It was very clear to Hermione that Sirius had adopted her as his Salvation.

Her eyes were on him intently when she repeated as serious as he, "I don't want to lose you, either."


	34. Swearing an Oath

__

A Note from Serade Black: Thank you dear readers for your faithfulness and loyalty to this story. The ending is in sight and I'm eager to begin a new one. The updates are few and far between and I guess my reasons for that is for sheer continuity. In my outline, there were a few things I missed and my have been a bit inconsistent with, but I am human. 

I have had a question that my need to be cleared up: Sirius and Hermione's ages. Sirius is 36, having "frozen" when he went into the veil. Hermione is 21. The time is 6 years after their 5th year at Hogwarts. Enjoy! SB

Ch. 34 - Swearing an Oath to All

"Right hand up, please," the clerk of the Ministry said, while clearing his throat.

They were deep down in the basement of the old wing at the Ministry of Magic. After using the room for Harry's hearing, it was opened up that they move more important ceremonies, weddings, hearings, etc down into these rooms. They were equipped with enough seating for jury and audience and the newer rooms could be used for interrogation of known Death Eaters.

The torches were lit all the way up the wall and against the stone ceiling. Quiet murmurs of voices ricochet off the stone barrier that encircled them. A few of the Wizardgamot sat in their normal seats, seeing as this was not a hearing, most were there out of habit and reputation while several empty seats remained unceremoniously unfilled. Few friends and family of the sworn occupied the wooden benches surrounding the small half dozen.

The room was very warm that January morning; the fire roaring over the gavel banging. Tall wooden pedestals were erected for those overseeing and pronouncing the swearing in, raising them several feet above everyone in the room. The hefty man, whose voice rung through the room like the whistle of the Hogwarts Express continued on even after he stopped speaking, addressed the new Aurors privately in their minds so that they understood the magnitude of what they were being sworn in for.

Hermione stood still and straight, as if she were balancing an encyclopedia on her head. Her hair was tied back off her shoulders in a French twist, while she looked smart wearing a fitted green sweater, A-line black skirt and tall black boots. The diamond necklace that Sirius bought her for Christmas, one of many presents, was displayed proudly against her chest like a defiant symbol. It was still frowned upon that they were in a relationship and in the same department, but they kept it very low key considering they lived together.

Next to her, she heard Sirius shifting in his boots. His attire was just as formal, wearing brown corduroy pants, a maroon buttoned shirt, darker brown velvet coat and a patterned tie. His collar was open wide, displaying a hint of his Azkaban tattoos for the Ministry to see, being as he loved rubbing it in their faces every chance he got. He felt like they still owed him something, but he thoroughly enjoyed not saying anything about it and sitting in silence, forcing them to walk on egg shells around him like he were royalty.

"Repeat after me," the clerk said aloud when everyone followed orders and raised their right hand. Each new Auror stood before the short bald man with their chin high, their hand raised and their backs as straight as a table. "I, state your name, do hereby swear before the Ministry of Magic," he waited for them to say their piece. "That I have been inducted into the Ministry as an Auror," he paused. "To defend all in the wizarding community, be on guard for any witch or wizard that wishes wrong against the Ministry….for now until the day I resign."

In unison, bellowing voices of six rang through the room like a lion's roar, each one with their own sets of eyes on the clerk, showing their passion and confidence in the job they swore to do. After all was said and the room was silent again, proud faces smiled for their friends or family. Tonks, Ron and Kinglsey were holding their applause until the last line was said, that promised them their duties.

"As first Chairman for the Ministry of Magic, I know declare you four wizards and two witches, Aurors. Ceremony concluded."

Hermione's face broke into a huge grin, after being held frozen faced for the last ten minutes, and finally broke her model perfect poise to relax. Her stomach was doing flip flops and like a flash, she briefly looked back on all the hard studying she did in school and thereafter. It had all finally paid off. The howl to the left of her made her turn towards the dark handsome wizard that had his arms open and ready to catch her. Discarding all dignity, he picked her up when she went for a hug and he whirled her around him with one big twirl. Believing how incredibly unprofessional it all looked; he couldn't have a care about it. His excitement for her accomplishment meant more to him than his own induction. This was all her doing, all because of her work and he was merely grandfathered in. She, alone, was an inspiring individual and the Ministry could learn a lot from her.

0o0o0o0o0o0

The old clock ticked away the silence in the room as the wind outside did a number on the overbearing trees touching the windows. Several portraits were tucking themselves in for the night after a vigorous day of people coming in and out of the house dropping off plans and confirmations of meetings that were going to take place during the warehouse raid that following week. As the dust settled and Tonks and Remus had retired to bed, Hermione and Sirius remained downstairs in the parlor. Sirius was immersed in his usual poetic book as Hermione had her nose deep in a nine inch thick book taking notes furiously.

Rereading as she appeared to be, Hermione's mind was not where it obviously could have been. Her furious note taking was merely the result of trying to catch up to where she should have been, after digging into the book that lie before her like a talisman. She kept reverting back to the old house Sirius introduced her to. As it was, her dreams plagued her enough with unanswered questions and wrongful assumptions. She lived in that house at some point in her life. She was married, or had been married. She had two children, a boy then a girl. Both with dark hair and dark features, with gorgeous skin and bright faces. They seemed to have a strong knack for magic, potions, chemistry, and the lot. She'd yet to see the face of the children's' father and Snape had made two appearances in them clearly.

She didn't know.

Her mind drifted off and her eyes strayed over to Sirius who sat in his linen pajama pants with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He wore a Chudley Cannon's t-shirt that hung loosely around his body and his hair fell to either side of his face, darkening his features. Smiling to herself, she couldn't help but notice the fine age lines around his face that gave him a more dashing look, even in his sleep attire. Far from the teenage marauder he once was, but sometimes mentally remained in, he was a grown man with a big heart.

She didn't dare tell Sirius about the kiss she shared with Severus back at Spinner's End, for it would create large havoc than what would deem necessary. For all she knew, he may have witnessed it and felt it wasn't worth spending anymore breath saying Snape's name. Instead, she thought about the dreams again and what they were a prelude to. Were they her future? Were they another time in her life? Was Sirius a strong player in the game?

Hermione had been staring at him blindly, she didn't notice him looking up and talking to her. She gave her head a shake and focused back on him, "Sorry?"

"I said, what are you thinking, beautiful?" his heavenly voice repeated. As if he'd invented the word "beautiful", it rolled off his tongue and sunk into her like warm chocolate on silky skin.

Her eyes fluttered a bit to bring her back and she tilted her head away. "I was just thinking of that house you showed me. What was it intended for? I mean, what were you going to do with it when you first came back?"

Sirius closed his book and rested his head against he cushions, ready for conversation. "I hadn't anything planned for it before. I left it in my will for Harry to give to anyone he wanted. I didn't think he'd sell it, because he's too kind of a person not to give it to someone. I reckoned he would have given it to you or Ron. Why do you ask? Do you see yourself in it?"

"He would have given it to me? You think?" she asked thoughtfully. The idea of she owning the home never crossed her mind.

"That's my guess," he added. "I guess you liked it, love? Fancy a move, then?"

His suggestion had caught her off-guard, but she was stable enough to actually consider it. With a mischievous grin, she bit the end of her pencil with an innocent appeal. "Move with me?"

He grinned slowly, thoughtfully, appreciating her invitation. They were a solid match and it was inevitable that they should reside privately together. Still, he had to let on that the idea was surprising and that he had put more than five seconds thought into replying, but she saw through him.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"_No, I will not admit it was a bad mistake. I loved him, once. That will never change!" Hermione clarified as she paced the floor of her grand bedroom. Fit for royalty, the large room with vaulted ceilings did nothing to inhibit the volume of her voice._

_Stopping for a moment to glance out the window that was dressed in heavy black and gold tapestry drapes, her eyes never focused on any one thing as the conversation she was having repeated like a broken record in her mind. She stood in her own house, her own decorations, a warm family home she strived to keep and her past was dragged into debate yet again._

"_I don't like him near our son!" a male voice said sternly. _As Hermione dreamt, she couldn't quite make out the male voice. _He was in the bathroom brushing his teeth and his speech was slurred from the mouth of toothpaste._

"_I've known him for years and besides, he sees him all the time at Grimmauld during Order meetings," she defended. She turned around to face him as he finished up, "Really, I'm surprised at you, keeping him away from such experiences. You of all people should understand what it's like to have family, even if they're not blood related."_

"_It's just-"_

"_It's just because you'll never change your opinion of him. Our son looks up to him, so just let him be and you need to stop being such a-" she concluded. Her statement was cut short._

_With swift timing, he caught her off guard and took the liberty of stealing a much needed passionate kiss from her. Her heart fluttered in her chest and as he pulled away, she slowly opened her eyes to the man she married._

Like someone had dropped freezing water on her as she slept, Hermione sat up with her hand clutched to her chest and breathless. Gasping for air and blinking her eyes repeatedly, she had a momentary lapse of remembering where she was. Her pupils adjusted to the darkness she stared around in, reminding herself that she remained in bed at Sirius's side. A slight stirring next to her naked body made her glance down at Sirius who was rolling over to face away from her on his side. He remained undisturbed as slumber kept him dreaming, unknowing the truths of the future Hermione had witnessed. His serenity instigated guilty secrets to well up in her from her kiss with Severus and her head tilted sincerely.

_She knew who she was going to marry. She wasn't ready to learn this._

Hermione settled down again, her heart still racing faster than a neck and neck challenge between a Nimbus 2001 and a Thunderbolt 60. She saw the man next to her in a different light knowing the outcome of their relationship. Resting her head close to his and lightly tracing a finger down the side of his bare arm, she slid her knee between his legs and sighed. He was strong, handsome, heavenly and misunderstood. She was so glad she took a chance.

As her eyes closed, her heart rate started to settle. She had no choice but to accept what her determined fate would be. Sirius snored lightly and off rhythm and it made Hermione smile at the sound. She really would miss this.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had never been so packed. Not since The Blacks hosted gala dinners at the mansion did the furniture get sat on as much as it did this night. Dressed to kill, literally, every Order member in London and the surrounding areas had come out to join the local team against the Death Eaters and Voldemort that were converging in the warehouse. As people looked around recognizing familiar faces, smiles of contentment gave people the confidence that the "strangers" they grew up with fought in the same secret society as they. Longtime classmates that barely spoke had grown up, discovering only now who had been beside them all those years fighting for the same strong cause.

"I was sure you were a muggle…"

"I always wondered with the way you had that exciting nightlife. I should have known…"

"Your whole family? I understand now why you've joined…"

"We've lived on the same street for five years…"

Sirius had a disconcerting feeling dwelling in his bones. The overwhelming feeling that he was going to meet his death again, settled inside of him uncomfortably. Worse even, he had the same feeling when he thought of Hermione. His eyes scanned the room for her, to see if she'd come downstairs yet. The two had gotten a little emotional over the preparing duel, that neither one wanted to risk the other, but had to be reminded why they were doing this all in the first place. With pride on their shoulders they gave one last good luck kiss and Sirius left to go around the brain of the operation - the kitchen.

He'd said hello to a few that milled in the long narrow hallway before the door to the kitchen. His enhanced canine sense of smell forced his upper lip to curl as the pungent aura of the mortician waft around him. Like dripping poison to his ears, Sirius had to endure the sweet torture that his youthful enemy surely enjoyed as he spoke assertively to the crowd. His thoughts were cloudy once again and he watched Snape walk over to the counter to where he had prepared a tray of shot glasses with some purple contents swirling around inside.

Hermione had just come into the kitchen and gave a polite, but awkward nod to her previous love and walked over by Remus, who otherwise was watching the shot glasses carefully, as if what they contained was as good as gold.

"What is that?" Hermione whispered to Remus. The tray was passed around to the first two units of the Order, each person taking a shot, swallowing, and making a sour face of displeasure.

Remus leaned over to his friend and replied, "It's a special potion Snape's brewed to enhance our immune systems." The tray passed by them and both of them picked up a shot glass. "It's supposed to give us a little more 'oompf' to ward off some dark magic." Remus knocked the glass back, flicking his shaggy hair back and forth over his eyes, "And it taste like shite."

Hermione's nose twitched and she watched Snape remove the final shot glass and hand it to Sirius, personally. Sirius's eyes narrowed on his rival suspiciously, paranoid that he was about to be poisoned in front of everyone and he was just using the immune booster as a cover-up. Fearless, Sirius knocked back the swirling purple contents with green flecks like a pro and handed the empty glass back to Snape as if he were nothing more than a servant. Snape ignored the gesture and turned his back to him, whispering under his breath quietly about how much he loathed the arrogant Dog Star.

The groups began to file out of the house inconspicuously, meeting Kinglsey at a pre-made portkey that would take them to another secure spot to then apparate to another point outside of the warehouse. The first two units shuffled together and Sirius couldn't help but reach for Hermione's hand out of both habit and sheer fear for her. He prayed to the heavens above that it was not the last time he was going to feel her soft skin against his rough hands, and swallowed his emotion back down into his throat.

At the first rendezvous point, wizards and witches were to break off into their units, before crossing paths sometime in the warehouse. Standing outside a closed-up shop in Hogsmeade, light snow flakes started to tap against the windows while footprints etched their location on the freshly wet sidewalk. Friends and relatives were saying good luck jeers and giving well wishes as Hermione and Sirius believed they were completely alone.

She looked up at him in the cold air like he was her dark angel. Subconsciously, she reached up and tied the scarf around his neck tighter, as if one extra tug on it would protect him from the worst. A lasting effort on her part before sending him on his way, hoping to meet him again at the end of the night. Reciprocating the gesture, he pulled her coat tighter, moved a stray hair away from her face and bit his lip to refrain from yelling at her to go back home and wait.

He knew that wherever Harry was, he was safe, protected and out of harms way. With Hermione, he was leading her out into the open, but felt like he was leading her to the guillotine. He believed all her protective charms had long since disappeared since she agreed to take this mission and it settled in Sirius like bad milk. The very thought of her doing this made his stomach retch and nothing he could say or do would convince her otherwise, for he was being completely selfish in this matter.

Like a white angel to his dark, her hair framed her face so beautifully, he could almost see his children in the depths of her eyes. As if a small flame ignited in the cockles of his heart, he quietly swore to himself that if they got out of this alive, he'd give her anything she wanted. Life was too short to worry about too many dangers and he, of all people, had been given enough chances at a new one.

"Be careful," she started while letting a finger slide down his scruffy face. "Remember, no archways or cousins!"

"I love you," he whispered strained and almost breathless. His emotions were getting the better of him, and he couldn't let this happen. Not when he was about to fight. Instead, he shut his eyes tight and pressed his forehead to hers.

"I love you," she said almost immediately after him. "I'll see you on the other side."

Her fingers held the fabric of his coat tight, refusing to let him go just yet. She'd lost him once, she didn't want to lose him again and it felt inevitable that he was going to go off with his wand blazing. She feared the worst, as one does at this time and she could only imagine the way James and Lily felt for each other the night they died. Sirius smiled for her, through fake gestures. He couldn't say what he wanted because he feared it would sound like he was yelling. He kissed her one more time, her lips feeling like cold lava, it was so painful. He tore himself away against his own will, but had to send her on before he lost his nerve completely. Remus stood there with his unit waiting, giving a light nod to his best friend that he'd keep an eye on her when he could. He understood that she remained to be something of Sirius's salvation, quite possibly condemning their relationship. Only the future would tell.

Sirius went off with his own unit, fighting his emotions all the way. Once they apparated to their rendezvous point, Sirius shook out his shoulders, arms and legs like he was preparing for a race. He donned a mental suit of armor that would protect him as long as he kept his wits about him. Sinking into a mental black hole, he cleared his mind of everything and everyone. He glanced over to a couple of others around him and bid them all the luck he could possess with sincerity. Inside, he meant it all for his lady love, but already she felt so far away it pained him to even allow her picture to enter his mind. For however long this raid would last, he would not think of her. She didn't exist…he loved no one…

Banding together, the unit had separated into three, trying to remain unnoticed and unsuspected as they physically made their way to the grungy building they looked up at. Looking like an abandoned muggle gymnasium, there was no hiding that it was a long forgotten warehouse on the docks that hadn't been visited by muggles in several years. Old beer cans from vagrant adolescences lay around the building along with floating debris from the river nearby. Broken windows allowed flying wildlife to find solitude in rusty beams and rain sodden floor mats were left lying around from a once thriving business nearby. Dead branches were scattered about from a sick tree with tentacle-like vines slinky up the building wall.

About one hundred feet ahead of them, a pair of metal doors with broken hinges acted as their entrance point, just as Snape explained. He'd left detailed maps of the building, new and old, one showing its structure and another showing the weathered damage that it had taken. Both proved to be useful tools and they had written out their plans to perfection. As long as each wizard carefully planned out their strategic moves and remained safe, but brave, nothing could go wrong.


	35. The Battle

-1_A note from Serade Black:__ First off, I have to file my nails on my shirt to say that, as an author, my readers that reviewed this story have built up my ego so much, I'll have to walk outside to write this note to you. All stories should have a story, a plot, a conflict, a resolution. That usually means that the author should be able to take you on a roller coaster of some sort. Will Hermione end up with Sirius? Will she end up with Snape? I've been known to be a Sirius/Hermione writer, and the majority of this story IS about the pair, so it does make it fair to say that it's BEEN a Sirius/Hermione story. But, I'm not giving anything away!_

_Out of my reviews, I see a few of you are starting to try and figure things out, but the majority is majorly confused … excellent. Without give away too much, my favorite review thus far ended in, "So, are you really going to pull the trigger?" SB _

Ch 35 - The Battle

An hour into the mission, streaks of light in colors of red, green and blue filled the smoke filled room. Magical grenades had gone off, thanks to the Weasley twins, allowing momentary stealth to the Order and Aurors trying to fight off and capture several bands of Death Eaters who had shown themselves to be worthy adversaries.

The second unit with Kingsley, Tonks, Hermione and three other Aurors came around the outside of the main opening of the tin warehouse. Bruised bodies had been strewn all about, the trailing Aurors apparated the wounded, good and evil, to the Ministry where they were tended to or apprehended. Hermione felt her lip bleeding from a nasty hex Narcissa Malfoy had thrown at them, but they managed to avoid it as they split apart, scattering into the shadows individually. It was her intention to take them out one by one, but when she fled from the narrow hallway, they rejoined ranks to display their strong numbers and loyalty.

Kinglsey remained in the lead, followed by Tonks, then Hermione. The power of three would be strong as they crept quietly down the narrow hallway. The lights had been sabotaged, only the random emergency lights from the warehouse were illuminated. They hated to give off their location, but the darkness was so thick with the smoke, they had no choice but to illuminate their wands.

Slowly, they stepped against the wall of the hallway into the foggy abyss they could barely see through. Treading each step carefully, like it could be their last, their wands were extended defensively as they pressed further into the fight. Blasts and yells filled their ears as their location to the brain of the fight was undetermined. They were still unsure if there was a core battle, or the Death Eaters had scattered completely in single numbers and not banded together like the others. As it was once said to Hermione, "Constant vigilance" kept repeating over and over through her mind.

A moving sort of strange mist, the shade of green, started to float freely through the fog ahead of them. Believing that it was someone transfiguring themselves, Kingsley cast a spell over the mist to make sure it wasn't a trick to play at their feet, but once it was threatened it evaporated around them. Whatever it was may have moved too quickly for the unit to catch where it was going. Sparks from electrical cords flickered around them making hissing sounds like snakes and every now and then, pieces of the ceiling would cave in from a huge blast nearby.

Hermione remained focused, thought of no one, not even herself - it was the Auror way. Loud thumps from above, great explosions, remaining lights flickering, the sound of death was in the air. Like the rotting carcass at Snape's house, the smell of burned flesh filled their senses with every careful step they took down the passage. They heard voices up ahead, discovering that there must have been an outlet opening up before them. Streaks of light crossed about ten feet ahead of them and Kingsley stopped, throwing his arm back for the two women to press themselves tightly against the wall. He feared they would be seen if they stepped too far into someone's peripherals.

A green flash came into the hallway, narrowly missing Kingsley by a foot. The trio retreated a couple of feet back and braced themselves before going out into the brain of the battle. There were double doors ahead on the right. That's where the excess of spells were spilling out and then the hallway continued passed. Kingsley made a run for it, crossing over the "T", not casting any spells, but only taking a look to see what was around the corner. He made it across safe and looked back at Hermione and Tonks who waited their turn to run. A red beam flew between Kingsley and the two women, forcing the three to duck and dodge, avoiding the stream.

Hermione felt her upper brow perspiring; she was anxious to get in there. She was ready to fight and perform her job perfectly, both as a new Auror and as a proud member of the Order. Kingsley, the captain of their trio, was the first to cast as he carefully ran into the open doorway to become part of the fight. Tonks followed, but upon her first steps she was sliced in the arm by a flying unknown beam. She muffled her shock of pain and fell to the floor, hiding behind some boxes in the main warehouse. She'd have to make a bandage and wrap her arm, because like Hermione, she was proud to be an Auror and Order member and nothing, not even a slice in the arm, was going to hold her back.

Once Hermione saw Tonks covered in a good hiding spot, she glanced behind her to see that she was the last one to follow. None of the other Order members in their unit had made it as far, and she knew that a couple of them had gotten hit and the last one went off in another direction after Kingsley dismissed him.

Hermione took a deep breath, feeling her pulse beating heavily in her neck, her blood was pumping and she felt like she was made of steel. Making the conscious decision to not run into the warehouse casting, her plan was to come in unnoticed. She managed to quickly slip in, avoiding a blue stream, taking a roll behind some boxes and then looking back at Kingsley who was still behind a forklift nodding his approval for her to move further. With a blind arm, he cast at two unknowns in black hoods not to far away, catching their robes on fire and for them to stop defending from another from across the room. Hermione remained hidden, looking about and making sure she was safely camouflaged while she assessed the situation.

Kingsley's hiding spot was quickly discovered by a near-miss Imobulous charm and he apparated out of his position. Hermione watched the two robe burning wizards scramble about like chickens with their heads lopped off, looking quite ridiculous, for all they needed to do was remove their robes. But, something told Hermione that it was more than just vanity, she believed they would rather burn in their cotton than show their real identity and face the consequences.

A side glance made Hermione catch Tonks creeping alongside the same narrow row of boxes she hid behind. With a bandaged upper arm, she showed no fear or hesitation to move forward and rejoin as a power of two. Hermione smiled and nodded her, wishing to inquire of her arm, but there really was no time for personal checks.

"Over to the right, these three are very good. I'm not sure who they are, but then again, they all look alike after awhile," Hermione informed. The two witches ducked away from a flying green stream that burned a hole through tall boxes behind them. Hermione bit her lip upon ducking away and tasted the iron of her own blood.

Tonks rested a hand on the stack of boxes that shielded them for a moment, in order to use them as leverage to look over them. However, she was unaware that they were empty and she pushed too hard, knocking them over and creating a scene. Hermione threw herself down on the floor to avoid being seen and led Tonks away by a belly crawl. Her heart was racing a mile a minute that they were going to be discovered, but she hoped that just for a second, they would believe the falling boxes were due to their own magic.

Hermione and Tonks managed to get away further, almost to the opposite side, with the speed at which they were crawling. The harsh floor was beginning to wear on them, Hermione was sure she'd just about rubbed her elbows raw with the stress she was putting on them. Her adrenaline was pumping; she felt sweat beads falling from her brow, her heart was pounding with the crashing sounds of cackling around them. She was sure she heard Remus calling out that he was hit, but when she looked back at Tonks, she was like iron. Tonks had done this long enough that when she was out there; she built an emotional shell around her so she would not lose focus.

Hermione on the other hand, was still learning. She wasn't easily distracted, but a small part of her still felt the pang in her heart when she heard her friend, Remus, cry out. The same thing happened all those years ago at the battle at the Ministry. She heard the yells and screams from her friends and she wanted so desperately to go to them, but now she was in a different position. A position that had the mind of a soldier, you had to move on, move forward and forget about all those you came in with.

Tonks grabbed Hermione's foot for her to stop crawling, for they were running out of rows of boxes to hide behind. The young witch was so driven with thought she almost crawled right out into the open. The two women stopped, sat back on their butts and watched above them for any snipers that may have been hiding up in the beams. Except for a few stray beams of light bouncing around them, they had not been aimed at. Hermione turned to Tonks to coordinate a signal as they were about to jump out and assist the three others out there, Remus included, to take on the seven Death Eaters that played them like a group of school children with their parlor tricks. Hermione was anxious to get out there and tear some of these bad bloods up, so she gave Tonks's hand a squeeze and went to peer over the low stack of boxes that defended them from the battle.

Remus, George and Ron fought in circles, using one another as leverage between spells. Back to back the Weasleys worked, with Remus pivoting around on one foot, since his leg had been wounded and he hadn't the opportunity to mend it. George yelled at Remus to leave, to go take care of himself, since he was just dead weight with his leg, but Remus cursed under his breath that he was in this and not moving. Kingsley came up the side and pulled Remus out of the center firing, throwing him behind a row of old barrels and taking his spot as the pivoting soldier. A strong trio still remained and Hermione was most impressed by Ron. He showed no fear on his face, complete hero mode, and though danger was all around them she couldn't help but give off a charming snort. Her best friend was out there and it was time to stand by him.

Hermione threw a few casts over the boxes to give Ron and his brother a chance to catch their breath and she came in enchanting, charming, and hexing the Death Eaters away with a fresh arm. The building around them sounded like explosions were happening in stereo, but the wizards knew it was just the ricocheting of the spells under the tin construction. The remaining emergency lights flickered out one by one, as the streaks of light from wand tips illuminated the room enough like fireworks in a midnight sky. Many times, the only chance you got to see your opponents face was when a light shot from your own wand and was deflected. Instincts protected your judgment that you wouldn't attack your own, but one or two Death Eaters were taken out by their own comrades because they were too anxious for the smell of blood and the aura of death.

Hermione focused carefully on using all her senses to hear the Death Eaters narrowing in on them. They were a band of five, with Remus limping back out, but forcefully being thrown back by Kingsley to stay out of the center circle. The Death Eater numbers shifted from three up to ten, the other units from the Ministry came in and took the wounded out to either heal them or apprehend them. A flash of light whizzed passed Hermione's arm, catching her on the sleeve and leaving a small gash on the skin. It did not phase the bushy haired brunette, for she had vengeance in her eyes and her heart was true and noble. A red stream was aiming for Ron and George and she quick used a barrier spell for the boys, causing the spell to bounce back at the caster.

The warehouse, a tin building, magnified the sounds bouncing off the steel pillars like thunder heaving in their ears. Light flashes, barrels rolling, pieces of the ceiling collapsing to their feet, Death Eater's robes on fire, broken masks lay strewn all over the floor. The hidden meeting must have housed hundreds of Death Eaters that night, and only a fourth had been defeated, several had disappeared amongst the building, plenty had fled and a few die-hards held no fear. Sparks from wires rained down on them, singing the hairs on their skin, but not hurting enough to deter them from their focus. It did light up a few Death Eaters' robes, proving to be a vantage point for the good fighters. If they burned to death, it would be tragic, but since their numbers were so high, let it be a warning.

Hermione signaled Tonks to start making her way around the sides of the warehouse again. Since the Order members were in the middle, it was easy for the Death Eaters to grab control if they were the only ones circling them. The next fighting tactic was to have the remaining outsiders flank around them, hoping to use clever skill over numbers.

Appearing as if she were retreating, Hermione quickly spun around and made a run for it, leaving the center circle and dodging streaks of light overhead. At the last minute before she was clear, she spun around again and surprised a few Death Eaters with some ancient hexes she'd kept up her sleeve. They underestimated the power of a young one, forgetting that she wasn't book smarts for nothing. Spells their grandmothers never knew flew from her wand as fluid as the simplest of charms of a first year, sending the Death Eaters in agony and defeat. Swooping Aurors bound them and apparated away with them in tow.

From an open door, an army of twelve more Death Eaters came in running like a football team before a game. Hermione was careful enough to jump out of the way and cast a low trip line as she took to the ground with a thud. It was almost comical to see the hated faces gunning for Kingsley, George and Ron and be taken out by a little piece of an enchanted rope, sending half of them flying to their feet, immediately bound and apparated away. Six more new Death Eaters remained and coming up the rear was the aristocrat herself, Narcissa Malfoy. She felt no power hiding behind a mask and let her flowing blonde hair fall down her back as fluid as her husband's who currently sat in Azkaban. Hermione dove behind a stack of boxes and couldn't resist an easy igniting spell that she cast to the tips of her green hair bow.

A bark-like laugh filled the room, as demonic as it sounded, announcing his arrival. Hermione's eyes shot across the center of the room to the opposite opening and Sirius ran inside, his arm bleeding, his pants torn and his eyes black. Two others followed him in laughing in a similar way, only to be recognized as Ginny and Fred; Sirius must have been the remaining captain of that unit.

Hermione jerked her head back to see Narcissa beating the fire out of her hair bow, but it was too late, she'd lost about three inches of her long blonde hair and the blaze in her face was enough to believe she would take no prisoners now. Her eyes darted all over, looking for the guilty wizard…up, down, behind her and then center on the Order members. She sent a few casts into the core of the brigade, clearly knocking Ron and his brother George to their feet, but it was Sirius who came to their rescue and knocked Narcissa backwards against the wall so hard, she was breathless for a few minutes after she stood back up on her feet. The blow and forced her to bite down hard on her own lip, that blood trickled down her chin like a feasting vampire.

"Good to see you cousin, blood red always looked good on you!" Sirius yelled in jest. Casually, he cast hexes and dangerous charms under his arm behind him, like he was out for a stroll. You could tell that by the fire in his own eyes, he lived for this; he lived for victory and the triumph of good over evil. The fact that he loved taunting his own tainted bloodline in such a way it was practically erotic. In his sport, he knocked back two larger Death Eaters to the ground, their legs over their heads.

Narcissa didn't take long to come to and she was knocked back again by a strong hex from Remus's wand, sending a Death Eater to fall on top of her. Sirius barked aloud, making a comment about how Lucius would be jealous that she was under another wizard. George had picked up some of his slack and was able to bind a nasty Death Eater to the ground, but when removing his mask he saw the kid had to have been no older than fourteen. George was taken aback by the talented youth and didn't catch the red beam that hit his leg faster than a bullet, bringing George to the ground.

Hermione watched Narcissa get up like she were made of stone, no bones broken, just blood on her light green dress that peeked out from under her robe. Her hair was now matted to her face, her fists balled and her wand out and ready. Tonks came about and took attack on her, followed by her love, Remus, at her side. The two kept Narcissa at bay, but she was an extremely talented witch.

"Your mother taught you one or two things, then?" Narcissa bellowed.

"No! My muggle father learned a few tricks, so this is from them!" Tonks screamed. Her hair changed five different shades of red.

Hermione watched Sirius dance around like he lived for this. His wand strokes were poetic, fluid, almost like a maestro conducting an orchestra, but she was getting distracted. Hermione went out, continuing the battle. The numbers were even now, one Death Eater for each and this could be over soon, if more numbers did not join.

Tonks's spell backfired away from Narcissa, bouncing off the wall behind her, only to hit an unsuspecting Death Eater currently weakening Ron. With a jovial laugh, Ron believed it was he who knocked out his rival and did a ridiculous celebration dance before Sirius slapped him upside the head and told him to refocus. With another Death Eater out by Sirius's hand, their numbers were dwindling. Hermione's fight stance accidentally backed her up into Sirius, but he pushed her away and shook his head as if seeing Hermione was not what he needed. He said nothing to her; he merely pushed her out of a streak of light and shoved her with all his might to the outskirts to hide. Hermione fell to the ground with a heavy thud, but was stubborn enough to try and get up. Her eyes were angry on him, but she knew what he had done.

A Death Eater slowly hunted Sirius and threw himself into a roll, before attacking his leg with a binding charm. From her vantage point Hermione performed the counter curse, while still lying belly down, that freed Sirius almost instantly and he was able to grasp his footing once again. A thankful nod was all she got from her love, but she truly didn't want him to worry about her. It appeared that just by knowing she was close was scrambling his brain, but he quickly refocused and was back at the Death Eater who attacked him, while taking two out with a casual flick of his wrist. Hermione ran to the two fallen Death Eaters that were currently putting out fire sparks in their robes when she cast a water spell over them, petrifying them until the Aurors came to apparate them away.

Finally, they were outnumbering the Death Eaters, but the ones remaining were also the strongest. With broken limbs, bloody faces and having barrels thrown at them, they almost proved not to be human and they pushed on through the war space like they were invincible. At the corner of her eye, Hermione got a glimpse of the black billowing robes she knew so well. Severus was nearby; surely he was casting spells unknown to the Death Eaters to give the Order members an advantage. Pieces of ceiling fell to the floor, leaving debris and broken wires to dance around their feet as wizards and witches rolled and ducked around anything coming at them. Remus and Tonks had Narcissa down, petrified. Three other Death Eaters remained and two were quickly taken out. Severus stayed in the shadows, hidden. The last and lone Death Eater threw Unforgivables out like they were spoken as a nursery rhyme, slipping a curse to release Narcissa and freeing her behind Tonks and Remus. The single Death Eater jumped and rolled out of the line of three streaks of light that were gunning for him. Sirius in the lead, he was sure he had him at his wand tip, but he was cut off by his own blood.

Narcissa stepped forward with great haste and whispered, "This is from my sister, you bastard!"

At the same time, a blast of green lightning from Narcissa's wand and a blue streak from a wand across the way sent Sirius spinning backwards through the air. Hermione immediately looked up to see familiar black billowing robes disappearing behind tall boxes out of sight. As if it were in slow motion, she watched as Sirius took the blow to his chest, his eyes were closed and his body flew backwards like a forgotten rag doll. Hermione screamed; her wand clutched desperately in her hand.

Severus came out of the shadows to pull her back. He tried with all his strength to restrain her, but her force, her adrenaline was more powerful than he'd ever known. Her hand got stuck on the chain that hung around his neck, but she managed to free herself from the metal leash. He reached out to grab her, but she ran directly to the broken body of Sirius Black, paying no attention to oncoming spells or hexes flying about.

Narcissa gave a charming chuckle that was loud enough for every wizard to hear and she and the lone Death Eater ran out of the warehouse and down the hallway to safely apparate.

"No!" Hermione screamed. She threw herself down next to Sirius, draping an arm over him as she sobbed out his name, calling him to return to her. His face was turned away from her, he showed no signs of bleeding and his chest was not rising. Her entire body started to shiver uncontrollably as she began to go into shock and felt strong arms trying to lift her away from. She wriggled out of his grasp and glanced back to the one who was trying to protect her, "Leave me, Snape!"

She'd never called him that; he was always Severus to her. She rarely referred to him as his last name since they'd been together and watched his former love lose all control by sitting up and lifting Sirius's head into her lap, desperately sobbing for him. There was no mistaking…he was dead.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The battle continued on around the scene, with Aurors stepping up and protecting the two on the floor together. Narcissa had ducked into the hallway and several Order members went in after them, hoping to apprehend them before it was too late. As Aurors left the scene to go about the warehouse and collect the remaining wounded, bringing them to safety or incarceration, a handful stayed behind as they were unsure how to deal with Sirius dying, for the second time.

Hermione remained a bottled mess. Her hair was wild, her tears flowed like a broken dam and no one, not even Ron, had seen her so disheveled. He wanted to reach out to his best friend, but she was all alone. She cradled Sirius's lifeless body to hers, weeping for him to end her breaking heart.

"This wasn't supposed to happen!" she sobbed, her breath catching. She shook her head in both denial and understanding. "I knew you were coming home all those months ago, but I never knew when. The dreams told me everything, they always have. I've dreamt of you for so long, Sirius, even before your Return. You've haunted my dreams since before I met you!"

Severus remained behind Hermione, listening to her talk to Sirius as if she were convincing the Heavens to return him once again. However, he was learning a great deal by remaining quiet.

Hermione carefully pushed the hair out of Sirius's handsome face, as if watching to see if he'd wake up any moment. His blood had ceased from flowing, since his heart had stopped, but her maternal instincts still took to dress his wounds.

"I first saw your face my third year at Hogwarts, not on posters, but in a dream I had of the future. It wasn't until I put two and two together and I saw you in the flesh in the shack that you were him. I couldn't take Divination, because they'd think I was mental for having dreams of you. Then, when you fell through the Veil, I knew you were going to come back to me, because I had to grow up. I knew you weren't dead, but I couldn't let Harry know this. Then, you showed up on my doorstep and you were there."

Hermione had gained a small audience, mostly it was Snape who listened more carefully than anyone.

"You made me realize what they all meant. You're supposed to be the father of my children; you're the one I'm supposed to grow old with. It was always you, Sirius. Every waking dream I had, I always saw you," she sobbed. His lifeless face next to hers lovingly. She clutched the fabric of his shirt, her head bowed next to his and she quietly shook.

As if someone had thrown a cold pail of ice water over him, her words were enough to melt Severus Snape. She'd never had dreams about him, she'd always known, since she was thirteen that it was supposed to be Sirius Black as her mate. Severus did not exist in her future and who was he to try and change it? "_The truth hurts,"_ she tried to warn him. But, there he was trying to tell her about her own dreams. About her dreams telling her the future, never the past, of things to come, of things that will happen. She knew it all along. That was why she found it so easy to let him go; he wasn't the one for her and the guilt truly pained her.

Severus felt the room beginning to close in on him. Though the ceiling was a hundred feet up, it could have been five and Severus still would have felt as claustrophobic. He started to take small slow steps back, leaving the sight of his fallen comrade and Hermione tightly bound together in display of a handful of fellow Order members. Each step took him away from the scene, back into the shadows, as the image of the woman he loved and the man he hated sat embraced.

His eyes closed, his head fell and Severus almost felt his departure poetic in a way, but guilt ridden all the same. There was no denying that he had allowed himself to fall in love with Hermione Granger, but she was never his to have. She'd dreamt of Black for a good portion of her life and her past could not be changed. Who was he to try and step in to take her away from her fate? She was more like Lily in so many ways; he had no choice to admit.

And now, Sirius Black was dead. Her dreams shattered. He would do anything to see her happy.

His carefully treaded steps took him back to the shadows, crunching down on something that nearly made him slip. He looked down to see the long chain of his Time Turner Hermione had momentarily gotten caught on, causing it to rip off his neck. He stared at it for a few seconds, furrowing his brow, watching the golden piece glisten up at him like a beacon for an idea. Severus leaned over and picked it up, letting it dangle before his face as his eyes focused passed it, to Hermione still holding Sirius and telling him about all the dreams she'd had with him in them.

He hated to admit that it might work, but there was no promise it would. He could not be seen. He could never tell her. He wasn't quite sure how he would do it, for he had to have been mental for considering it. He was going to go back and try and save the life of the wizard he loathed the most, so Hermione could be happy.

Sometimes, love really is blind.

…to be concluded.


	36. The Time Turner

-1_A note from Serade Black:__ I've had this story laid out I my mind and on paper for quite a few months, now. I knew how it was going to end, I knew how it was going to get there and I, of course, knew I was going to get "upsetting" reviews from readers. Thank you. Thank you for all of those that took the time to invest a little bit of their moments with me to give me a chance to tell a story. Though there is one more chapter after this, essentially, this is the final chapter. _

_Some may not enjoy where I conclude by the end of this, some may skip to the end, some may never read my stuff again - for all of that, I thank you. To offer me a debate, theories, ideas, and hopes means a lot to me as a dabbling writer and believe me when I say this, those were the greatest types of reviews I could get, because that said to me that you were really into it. So, again, all of you that stuck by my finishing it - I thank you. SB_

_P.S. Yes, I know I refer to Snape as Severus or Snape different times. It was for transition._

Ch. 36 - The Time Turner

**Time-Turner **  
The Time-Turner is a small silver hourglass worn on a chain around the neck. It's a very powerful and dangerous magical item which literally turns back time for the user, one hour per inversion of the glass.

Time. A fragile, yet, dangerous thing. For years people believed that what happens in the past, stays in the past. At least, in muggles' eyes that is.

Severus Snape knew time was against him. Like influenza beginning to creep into your bones, making every small piece of you begin to ache, never finding a relief point. It was in the back of his mind, on the tip of his tongue, to the points of his fingers, to his roughly thumping heart. Like a shadow hovering over you, beating down the mental door that caged you in, anxiety set in.

When he got up that afternoon to prepare for the evening, he never believed that he'd actually use his Time-Turner, but ever since he'd been around hairy situations with Hermione, he put it on for only her protection. It was far too late to go back for Lily, but he figured that if it only happened briefly, he'd somehow be able to scrape by a solution to rescue Hermione. But now as he ran through the deserted hallway of the warehouse searching for a completely vacant area he knew wouldn't have been occupied two hours prior, he couldn't believe he was considering a risk to his life to go and save her little pup.

It was the pain and anguish in her face over the death of Sirius that haunted him to do it. He watched his own loved one dying a little inside, sobbing hurtful tears of loss for someone she had invested dreams into. In his own opinion, the arrogant shaggy haired wizard that lay in her arms like a fallen soldier did not deserve her love, but he was merely being selfish.

Severus had taken their romance for granted. He never believed that _his _Hermione, his gentle intelligent girl, would ever give that gigolo a piece of her heart. But sadly, he had been misled. By her own words, her own heartfelt confessions, Sirius had been the man in her dreams since Hogwarts and even he knew that was fate stepping in and directing her course. He thought he understood what she was going through, believing her to only be half-seeing the dreams she told him about, but she knew the entire time. She'd mentioned one time to him that Sirius was in the dreams, but he showed no interest in discussing it further and for that, Severus let the topic lay until it was something more worthy than speaking of the dead.

Clearing his mind of his blinding thoughts, Severus managed to find a bathroom that appeared to be untouched since before the battle. Taking careful precautions as he stepped into the facilities, making a note that they could double as a vagrant's palace, he quickly thought out the baby steps to his plan. He held the Time Turner over his hand, letting the chain dangle long before him. He frowned for a moment as he stared into the face of the small pocket watch, trying not to notice how it practically offered itself to save a life. Knowing the history of the type of magical piece he held in his hand, Sirius Black should begin paying royalties to the wizard who developed it. It was during intimate moments with Hermione in his own bed did he discover the deep secret the night Sirius Black "broke out" of the tallest tower. It made sense back then, he thought. HHowever, how anyone believed that Hagrid's new pet hippogriff, Witherwings, wasn't the same animal from before was beyond him.

The potions master took a deep breath and turned the piece once, wincing the entire time. His heart began to race like a cheetah as he readied himself for the laws he was about to break. Turning it an extra half, giving himself more time, he mumbled loud and clear, "I hate you, Black."

The piece began to spin wildly, resetting everything around him back to the way it was nearly two hours ago. He was in the bathroom, so nothing more than a rat came by in the time duration. Once everything settled, he tucked the Time-Turner under his robes and carefully went to the door to survey if the coast was clear. Cracking the door just inches, he heard voices and peered carefully to see who the sounds belonged to.

As fate would have it, slapping him in the face like a thoughtless blind child, he saw the first unit compiled of Sirius, Ginny and Fred slinking down the narrow corridor moving carefully for any sound they heard.

"Ginny, what are doing when this is over?" Fred whispered quietly. All their nerves were on edge and he believed he needed to say something distracting to pump up his sister.

Ginny was between the two men as they walked in a line and rested a hand against Sirius's back the closer she got to him, letting him know it was she and not anyone else. "I'm going to every Cannon's game for the rest of the season. Maybe I'll try out to be a cheerleader,' she said.

"Now that is definitely something I have to see," Sirius quietly snarked. He wasn't alluding to anything rude or dirty, but more along the lines of the independent non-blonde stereotype like Ginny Weasley.

"What? You don't think I could do it?" she asked in a strained stage whisper, teetering on the verge of insult.

"It's not that you couldn't do it love, it's a matter of how long it'd be before you hexed the other witches on the squad for being too, I dunno…bubbly?" he convinced.

"Oh," she thought out. "Good point."

Two Death Eaters flew down the hallway at the threesome at a furious speed, taking Fred to the ground. Sirius stepped in before his fallen brethren and punched one enemy in the face rendering them nearly unconscious, while transfiguring the second Death Eater into a small barn mouse. For a fleeting moment, the evil side of Ginny came out flirting to step in and squash it.

"Wait!" Sirius called out. He grabbed hold of Ginny's hand to pull her back from committing homicide. "Let it live like that. He can't change back if no one knows he's really a wizard. Let him live his days like the vermin he is."

Ginny smiled brightly at the brilliant idea biting her lip when she saw the hint of Sirius's dimples. "And that," Sirius pointed at her. "That is why you couldn't be a cheerleader."

Fred snickered under his breath as the truth was so well written as the little barn mouse scurried away in fear, hoping to find someone else that would understand him. By the looks of his size, he wasn't going to last one day in that form before he was swooped up in the clutches of a hungry hunting owl. Fred magically bound the Death Eaters like two kidnapped victims, back to back and gagged, and then put them behind a magical shield that prevented them from getting away. A signal was then shot out the window to alert Ministry officials that they had wizards to be incarcerated.

"What are you doing when we get out of this, Sirius?" Ginny asked. The trio resumed to slinking down the hallway in stealth, using library whispers.

Sirius's throat began to burn, his hair started to stand on end and his ears were finely tuned to anything that was foreign to them. "I'm going to marry, Hermione!"

In a split second, Sirius had his wand arm out, cast and petrified a dark wizard trying to blend in with the plumbing. The man fell like a heavy stack of bricks onto the concrete floor below him, eyes looking about wildly, completely dazed.

"You truly are fearless, mate," Fred added. Casually and confidently, he strolled up next to the fallen enemy, looking down on him like Sirius had just swatted a fly. Then, his attention was back into the conversation with Sirius over his lack of fear. "To want to live out your days with Granger, that is quite commendable."

Sirius looked out, quite proud of himself for both the discovery and the realization of what he wanted to do. A glowing Ginny squeaked behind him and he turned around to give her a famous wink. "What can I say? I'm a glutton for punishment."

Severus heard Sirius's answer and slammed the door with all his might. As the pipes the Death Eater fell from began to crumble from the sudden blow, the sound of the angry door was concealed by ricocheting hollow pipes. As if the challenge couldn't get any worse, Severus felt like an arrow was just shot through his heart, leaving the air in the room to become thick and difficult. HHis temper started to raise, his pulse rate quickened and momentary nausea visited him as he envisioned his witch with that dog. He clenched his hands tightly, leaving the skin on his palms with half moon impressions from his fingernails. His wand arm twitched with the temptation that he could step out right that moment and gives Sirius Black a few good lashings when no one was around, but he figured he'd save that for another turn in time. It gave him something to look forward to.

Once the hallway was vacant, Severus slipped out of the bathroom and quickly crept down the corridor in the opposite direction. He kept glancing back to make sure he wasn't seen or being followed and once he came around to the next opening into the warehouse center, he slipped in like midnight wind using the shadows along the walls and stacks of boxes to conceal him. In the center, he saw Kingsley jumping out into the center, throwing Remus out of the way beaten and bloody. Severus was careful not to be seen, pulling his hood over his head so that his skin wouldn't show to anyone catching him in their eye. From behind him, he heard the sound of rushing fabric fly behind him. He glanced back from the slight breeze and saw that he had just missed himself taking wide strides, meeting up with Narcissa who had just come in through the same doorway he did. A near miss of meeting himself.

Time-Turner Severus watched himself coming about behind Narcissa, waiting for the back up Death Eaters to come barreling in. He saw Hermione ducking behind a short stack of boxes next to Tonks and when the army of Death Eaters arrived, they looked like a bunch of buffoons with the way they fell atop of each other from a simple rope charm. Hermione had used a simple little enchantment to pull the rope taut across the pathway and they fell like dominos almost like they'd choreographed it. Both Snapes just shook their head in embarrassment.

He heard the arrogant Dog Star coming in through the opposite side of the warehouse and into the direct action of the battle. He showed no fear on his face as he flipped his hair back and strutted right into the wand of an unknown Death Eater that had only moments to react as Black took him out with a swish and flick first years couldn't master. Ropes appeared out of thin air and they bound the Death Eater together to all his limbs like a pig to be roasted.

Narcissa strode in, telling Snape to stay behind and watch for any stragglers that might need to be taken care of. She had only just passed Hermione's hiding spot when he noticed her hair catch on fire. Surely, a sneaky charm his young witch had cast since she was in the safest position to take her out, but probably willed to have a bit of vanity game with her first.

Sirius was the center of the scene, several Death Eaters were after him, but he did not waver. Not even when he was struck in the arm and his shirt was torn open did he react. Instead, he punched one Death Eater, using physical old fashioned magic, astounding another before being thrown back by a spell of Ginny's, breaking both of the Death Eater's legs. Such an innocent cruel streak in the young Weasley, Time-Turner Severus thought.

Narcissa was being held back by Remus and Tonks, and Time-Turner Severus was nearing his moment to defend. He knew that she would soon break free from her battle of two and have her final say with Sirius Black who strutted around the warehouse as if he were out for a stroll in the park. Hermione was close beside him, but the two focused on fighting others off before considering that they were out there together. He watched a near miss shot on Hermione that Sirius practically pushed himself in front of, in order to get her out of the line of fire. He managed to shove her brutally aside, taking her to the ground, but the shot from the wand was only inches from his head. Hermione looked back at Sirius, but the concentrated wizard pretended he did not see her, for it nearly jeopardized his own mental fight strategy. Though it may have appeared that he was out to hurt Hermione, Severus saw the look of utter fear on Sirius's face the moment his eye caught that green stream of light heading for her. A valiant move, nonetheless, it was an obvious gamble with his own life in order to save hers.

With no announcement, Narcissa was freed from her restraints by the lone Death Eater that was smart enough to stay alive this long and Time-Turner Severus got in position. He only had one shot to get this right, otherwise all of his painful efforts were meant for nothing. He extended his wand arm; he aimed his tip at the arrogant bastard Black. His arm twitched nervously, both because he was concerned about the timing as well as painfully regretting his decision to save this ungrateful wizards life. He didn't deserve it, he didn't deserve her, he would hurt her…but he was the one in her dreams. She was happy with him and though he'd seen a bit of her tears for his possible death, they were of no comparison to the broken heart Sirius Black had caused her by departing this earth once again.

Narcissa's voice rang loud and clear, jolting Time-Turner Severus back to his mission, "This is from my sister, you bastard!"

"_Fallo Cadaverieus_!" Time-Turner Severus yelled. A blue streak left his wand, hitting Sirius only half a second before Narcissa's stream.

Just like before, Sirius's lifeless body fell to the ground with a ceremonial thump. A smirk passed over Time-Turner Severus's lips when he saw that he bumped his head pretty hard, but quickly composed himself and looked about the warehouse. Glancing at over at Hermione, she appeared to have looked directly at him the second after he was hit. Severus immediately ducked back further into the shadows, his hood still up and hiding behind a thick pillar. He watched the scene unfold before him, watching himself running out after Hermione the second Narcissa was gone to try and restrain her from throwing herself into the line of fire of a few stray streams from the other Death Eater who just disappeared down the hallway with three Aurors hot on their trail. Time-Turner Severus dropped his head away, he did not wish to watch the way she would fall down beside Black nor did he wish to hear her confessions all over again. Her dreams should have remained private, but it was she who told him about them first. Perhaps, she was unsure about them and why she was having them with Sirius Black, but she never let on any stranger of concern.

Time-Turner Severus knew his time was limited and began his concealed retreat in the direction of the bathroom where he had started in, to return to the present time, unnoticed.

Hermione had discussed Divination with Severus quite a few times, but she was always very vague about certain details. Since she held some secrets within them, he made a vow to her that he'd never pry into her mind to try and find out what those secrets were. However, curiosity had tempted him, as recent as the other night, when she'd come to find him in his broken home. He'd seen only glimpses into her mind, knowing that he was treading on dangerous waters to break such a sacred vow. Like showing the child where the cookies were kept, he wanted to sneak a peek, but managed to take a wrong turn and venture too deep into her mind, stumbling upon her most intimate moments with Black. Like tasting mud, Severus was repulsed when he came across the first time they shared a kiss, or the first time they made love and then tragically, Severus saw the smiles on her parents' faces when they first met him. Those were all places reserved for him, but as fate would have it, he was wrong.

Snape heard the bathroom door ahead of him close and by checking his time piece; he knew it was himself going in. Feeling like he'd made all the difference in the world, and for no one to find out how, Snape returned to the scene before him that was becoming more and more somber as each Auror was leaving them to their good-byes. Snape remained in the shadows, staying out of sight, waiting for his "_Fallo Cadaverieus", _or "fake death" spell, to lift after approximately ten minutes. Had the charge been held on Sirius for more than a second, he would have been out longer, thus exposing his time travel and wrongful assumption.

The battle was coming to an end, after sweeping the warehouse for straggling Death Eaters and taking their own wounded to safety. Remus stayed behind with Hermione as she cradled Sirius's upper body close to her like a fallen child. She felt the weight of his body setting in, his limbs stiffening and his face showing no signs of life left in him; she was nowhere near ready to let him go.

"Hermione, I'll take care of him," Remus whispered with a strained breath. He leaned over and placed a friendly hand on her shoulder, fighting back his own tainted emotion over his departed best friend.

Her crying had subsided, but she shook her head defiantly. She wasn't ready to go. The love of her life lay listless in her arms, but she believed he was going to come back any moment. She had dreams with him showing their children how to blow things up and how to accidentally set the cat's hair on fire. These were things she felt in her heart were still going to happen, at least she so desperately wanted them to. What was Snape's role in her dreams? He was never their father, he was just merely there. He was there for her, because no matter how terrible things got, Severus still meant something to her. He was her friend, a wise friend at that, and she would always want him to be around her children to show them whatever Sirius couldn't. It was what she would want…if she could have it.

Sirius's hand twitched at his side and Hermione jolted when she saw it in the corner of her eye. Remus saw it too, but he was quick to tell her it was just his muscles contracting, a stage of death. Hermione had no choice but to accept it, but still held him close to her heart, even after the idea of his body beginning to stiffen in her hold. Unconsciously, she placed a hand gently over his cheek, looking down at him fondly and wishing for him to stay with her one more time. Upon placing her hand softly to him, she expected him to be colder now, but it felt like the opposite. Hermione shook her head, believing that she was now allowing herself to see and feel things that were all just his body reacting. Death's final cruel joke.

At least, that's what she started to believe before she felt him squeeze the hand she was holding and his chest rose and fell consistently three times in a row.

Her breath left her, for there was no mistaking that he was breathing there in her arms. Remus had leaned in closer to witness the miracle as well, having just wiped his wet eyes dry of tears from losing his best friend for the third time to a fate he did not deserve. Hermione moved her hand from his cheek to his chest. His heart was beating slow, gradually picking up speed as seconds passed. She screamed, she cried with joy, she looked up at Severus who was slowly walking towards them, feigning interest.

"He's alive! He's breathing! Sirius? Sirius, baby, please open your eyes!" she sobbed. Her hands shook out of shock and she clutched his body as if she was witnessing a miracle. She would shake him awake if he didn't respond in ten seconds.

Hermione glanced up at Snape who looked down at them like he was waiting for them to just clear a path so he could walk, when she caught a glimpse of his Time-Turner peeking out from under his robes. Her lips parted for a second, mentally questioning herself if he maybe had something to do with any of this, but quickly her interest was back on the breathing, living man in her arms.

"Sirius, please, wake up! We'll go on holiday, we'll move, we'll kick Kreacher into the Thames, just wake up!" she begged. Her fingers clutched to the fabric of his shirt so tightly her knuckles went white. Anxious for him to be revived, she held him close, afraid to let go that he might slip away, again.

Remus dropped to his knees next to Hermione and rested a hand on her shoulder for support. He watched Sirius carefully with timid breath, witnessing his chest slowly rising and falling as if he were gaining speed and strength by the second. He laid a hand on Sirius's arm and felt life beginning to pump through his blood again. As relief swept through Remus, the color was starting to return to Sirius's dirty cheeks.

"Sirius, do us all a favor mate and open your bloody eyes, because if you don't I'll sell your motorbike to the lowest bidder!" Remus threatened with a slight smile behind tear soaked cheeks.

Sirius slowly came to, coughing two three times to clear his lungs before adding, "Do that mate, and we are no longer friends."

Hermione screamed and threw her arms around him, wanting desperately for him to embrace her. Instead, she knocked him back off her lap where he lay flat on the concrete, lifting a weak hand behind her head. Muffled sobs and wet tears soaked his shirt against his chest, as he slowly stroked her hair.

"Merlin's Beard, Sirius I thought you were dead," Hermione managed to sob out. Like a dam breaking, her strength had weakened and when she lifted her head up to see his face, now staring back up at her, she smiled as if she were discovering him all over again.

"I think, for a bit there, I was. I can't explain it," he said with a hoarse voice. He blinked his eyes a few times to allow moisture back around them and he finally opened them wide enough to take in the surroundings, remembering that he was in the warehouse. His blurry vision settled on his ethereal love, "Just like before, I'm waking up to an angel."

Hermione smiled as tears of joy trickled from her eyes and over her cheeks. Sirius lifted a hand to her, gently resting it on the side of her face, letting a thumb trace over her lips. She sniffled, holding his arm lovingly and watched him carefully. She leaned over and pressed her forehead to his, closing her eyes and listening to the sound of his breath catching. Letting his hand get lost in her tendrils again, he used her to warm up his body and kept her close, cherishing her touch on his over-sensitive skin.

Back from the dead, she felt like she would forever need to keep him on a short leash. The loss she felt, even for minutes, was enough for her to reconsider taking her old desk job back at the Ministry. Of course, she'd have to talk Sirius into doing the same, because he'd never be satisfied with staying in one place.

"I'd rather enjoy my own bile than stand here and listen to you two," Snape began as if announcing his departure.

Severus Snape turned to leave the trio to their reunion. Too much mushy emotions for his taste as it were enough to make him purge. Quiet and unnoticed, he got to the doorway and stopped. Out of habit, he glanced back at the enchanting brunette that had bewitched him over time. During his reminiscence, Hermione had also taken the time to look back at him. They shared a quiet exchange together and Snape continued out of the doorway, apparating as he walked.


	37. Surrender

-1_A note from Serade Black:__ The last chapter of the story, before the epilogue. I'm thrilled to end it (especially since it's been quite a time between the last chapter and this one), but sad to at the same time. Though I will be adding one more Author's note before the epilogue, I just wanted to answer a few questions regarding the story that I've had asked._

_Why is Pollux Black on the wall and not Phineas? Because, as we know all the awards that Pollux received, I created him to be always on his best behavior regardless of what side his is on. So, with his sassy wit, I thought they'd allow him to remain on the wall for comic relief._

_Why did she say in a previous chapter that "she would miss this…" when regarding the last dream she had when she saw the face of her husband? It was to merely throw you off the scent. I wasn't lying, it just depends on what context you read it. I tried very hard to be a diplomatic and vague with details as I could, so as not to totally allow something to bite me in the bud. I am sure I have plenty of inconsistencies already._

_Sorry for the short chapter, but I needed to separate the epilogue from this last chapter._

_SB _

Chapter 37 - One Week Later

_One Week Later_

"Go, get your coat," said Sirius.

Hermione had just welcomed him home from being gone for most of the day. He had some business at the Ministry left to do, writing a painfully long report he'd put off all week regarding the warehouse raid. His first official piece of pencil pushing he had to do and by the dramatic faces he made regarding all the Quick Quotes Quills he went through, he was ready for a release.

She still held the dish rag in her hands from tidying up the kitchen, for when she heard the front door close; she immediately raced out to see Sirius waiting for her in foyer.

"What kind of surprise?" she hinted with flirting eyebrows. She had just returned from the kitchen to drop off her dish towel when she reached for her navy pea coat that hung on the coat rack.

Before she could touch it, Sirius grabbed her hand. "Wait, I forgot I got something for you," he said with a startled voice. He turned around on her and dashed up the stairs towards his bedroom.

Hermione glanced over at the old portrait of Sirius's grandfather, "Any idea what he's up to, Pollux?"

"With that boy? Hell, after what I heard he went through the other night, I was sure he wasn't coming home at all. I know he gets that sense of stupidity from his father, God rest him," Pollux went on. Concerned for only a minute, he shook his head and then went back to leaning against his portrait frame to resume his nap.

In a flash, Sirius was back flying down the stairs taking two at a time, you'd think he was running a race. His face reflected the grin of a child about to do something fun. Behind his back, he kept something hidden and when he was standing perfectly before her, he gave her what he'd bought her two weeks earlier.

Her face brightened and her hands clapped over her mouth, giving a slight squeal. It was rebellious, it was dirty, and it was just like his. Hermione reached for the smaller sized leather coat, complete with buckles, straps, zippers and a spike or two. It had to have been an exact copy of his, only more feminine fitting. The fresh leather filled her senses as she touched the soft texture and allowed Sirius to help her with it. Once it was zipped up, she hopped over to the mirror like a giddy school girl to check it out on herself.

Sirius smirked as he noticed her preening for him, turning left and right, checking out the way it fit her.

He was pleased that she took to it so well. A gentle twinge in his gut tickled him that he might have had something to do with her slight corruption into the motorcycle world. But, oh how she looked so alluring with her brown tendrils lying over that black leather.

"You know, my dad is going to be really jealous," she teased. She turned to walk back over to him, resting her hands around his waist. Her face was turned up to him, hoping for a kiss by offering a sweet gentle smile over her lips.

He grinned mischievously as she came in for a chaste kiss, "Well, he's got to earn it first." He savored the feather-like touch over his lips, filling him like warm lava. "I doubt he can do the same things you can with his tongue."

Hermione gave a repulsive cringe at the visual, jabbing him teasingly in the arm. With a hollow chuckle of satisfaction for horribly killing the mood, he swept her up to go towards the door. The cool air gave an initial blast when they first opened the old oak door of Grimmauld Place, indicating that Father Winter was going to remain stagnant for a bit longer. A slow stirring wind wrapped around them, keeping the warmth within their jackets. Hermione snuggled into hers, welcoming the hint of rebellion that lurked inside of her like a secret personality.

The two situated themselves on the motor bike; Hermione wrapping her arms tightly around the wizard she loved, ever so pleased he still remained on this side of the living. The very thought of him not being with her, not sharing the house with her, not riding this bike and returning the "I love you," she whispered as softly as a butterfly into his ear, just left a dull feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Sirius was just starting to rev up the magical machine, letting it vibrate violently, but smoothly between their legs. He'd heard her slight whisper into his ear that was light enough for barely her own mind to hear, and spoke back, "I love you, too." With his keen canine sense of hearing, he could still hear her over anything.

As the wind hit their cheeks, Sirius's long soft locks tickled Hermione's face as she rested her chin on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, welcoming the tender touch, imagining that they were back on Buckbeak; the first time they sat close. Her lips felt the bite of chill, her hair whipped around in the cool air behind her and she could hardly feel the road underneath her; the ride was so smooth. Like coming out of a dream, she opened her eyes into the darkness ahead of her.

"Sirius! You didn't warn me!" she yelled, looking at the ground so far under them.

Sirius had done it. His bike took to the air like a floating cloud, the engine roaring like usual, the tires still spinning from leaving the concrete below. He'd manage to hide them behind the clouds in the sky, weaving and bobbing around them as if they were oncoming traffic.

Hermione tightened her grip, fearful that she would so easily slide off. Her arms were tense, she was certain she was cutting off his circulation somehow.

His barking laugh filled the night skies and he glanced back at her as he watched the aerial road ahead of them, a destination in mind, "Relax, my love. You're well protected when you're with me."

Hermione hugged him tighter, her head tucked behind his back and afraid to breathe. She was concerned about their balance that one deep breath of hers, might throw them off. She quickly thought of them being someplace different, anywhere, still with him and not eight hundred feet in the air. Even through the cold, her palms were sweating as they clutched his leather jacket like he was a life preserver in the ocean.

Sirius took a hand off the handlebars, setting his flying motorbike steady, and rested it on top of hers, squeezing it affectionately. He never wanted to frighten her, but he wanted to share the experience with her. A memory he had locked up, preserved in youth, wanting desperately to rekindle a bit of fun he used to know. He muttered a spell under his breath, rubbing her arm gently, soothing her to relax just a bit more so that she could breath again.

"You'll get used to it," he comforted.

Immediately, he felt her arm begin to lax and her face started to emerge from behind him again. Her chin resumed its normal resting spot on his shoulder and she smiled to herself once she realized that he'd done something to make the ride easier for her. As her eyes refocused on the space before them, he again took the handlebars and started to guide them a little to the left, tilting the front of the bike down.

Passing a few clouds, the wind blowing her hair freely around her, a familiar landmark came into view. Its highest points blinking for oncoming aircraft, or flying motorbikes, indicating its height. The Tower Bridge got larger and larger as they neared it. Sirius was steady as he flew around the southern tower, his face stern and concentrated as he hovered his bike round and round. For a second, Hermione thought they were going to land on top of the viewing walkway, but Sirius was far more complicated than that. He managed to find a small balcony that was wide enough for him to land and take off from when they were ready to go.

As if he were controlling a feather, the motorbike landed softly on the ancient structure, roaring its engine for a gentle set down. Sirius managed to take one tight turn as he landed on the balcony, which overlooked the entire Thames, for an easy departure. Hermione released him, slowly getting off the motorbike and treading carefully on the age old brick that probably hadn't seen the soles of modern shoes in several hundred years.

Before them, they looked over the city, into the courtyard of the Tower of London and its surrounding touristy areas. She noticed the place where they had shared their first stroll along the Thames. She recalled how romantic it was that night. She also recalled how awkward it felt to desire holding his hand and be normal, instead of protecting others from seeing them.

It seemed like so much time had passed since they started together, but in actuality, it had only been a few months.

Sirius cleared his throat behind her as he came up to wrap his arms protectively around her. Though they were safe and he held no fear with flying his motorbike hundreds of feet in the air, the crumbling balcony and its railing did not give him the confidence he searched hard for. Already he felt like his heart was in his throat over their height, their intimacy and the overall future plans. As he held her tight against him she relaxed with a pleasant sigh that could almost render her in a dream state.

Below them, the dark chilling water rested calm without nautical interruptions. Small waves from the current down below made quiet splashing sounds against the ancient structure as modern autos zoomed over the paved bridge. In the distance, Big Ben struck it's ninth hour, announcing to the rest of London that it was time to start tucking in and getting their younglings to bed for the following day. The cold air nipped at their noses, but their close proximity kept the chill at bay.

Turning around under his protective hold, Hermione wanted to face her devilishly handsome wizard with nine lives and a slight smirk. Her head tipped back, admiring his features, her eyes flicking up and down over his face, his chin and up to his dark eyebrows. She leaned in to kiss his jaw, allowing the gentle scrape of his day's stubble to tickle her lips. He looked down at her; their dangerous height on the medieval balcony her background. She appeared to him like a royal princess and he tangled his fingers in her hair, imagining the soft tendrils to be spun with pure silk by the touch.

"My hands are cold," she whispered. A sly finger slid his jacket open in order for her to slide her cold hands around his toasty warm torso, when she felt something in his inner pocket. "What's this?"

Sirius didn't move a muscle, he didn't even object to her investigation. He hadn't planned it all out; he only got this far in his mind so if she instigated it any further, then he would go with the flow.

"What's hiding in here?" she asked as her sneaky hands felt down to the inside of his leather jacket pocket to pull out a small trinket box. "Is it another surprise?" she asked coy.

He pulled back a little to give her room to inspect the antique box she kept low between them for fear a slight wind may whisk the item in question away from them. Sirius felt his throat dry with the anticipation that she might understand the magnitude of the box she held so carefully in her hands. Feminine fingers slid over the ornate design, admiring the detail in the small velvet box. An ancient clasp kept its secret enclosed and she looked up with him with rather calm, but curious, eyes. She no longer had a hint of the smile over her lips, but a furrowed brow changing her expressions slowly.

Small wisps of hair being restrained by a clip started to fall to her sides as her head ducked down and Sirius strung a finger behind her ear so that he could watch her open the box. His heart rate picked up with dangerous speed and his hands shook slightly.

"Sirius, what's this?" she practically whispered with an unsure voice. It was almost hesitant.

Sirius said nothing. He remained silent, still and full of hope. His eyes were burning from the cold wrapping around them as they parted for the business. He found himself taking larger breaths to prepare him for anything as she finally started to fidget with the old clasp on the box.

Slowly, she looked up as her fingers worked it, looking up at him with unknown eyes and a sincere expression. Surely she didn't know, but with the way he noticed her chest beginning to rise and fall faster and faster, he was afraid she might become weak in the next few moments and gently pulled her away from the cement railing. She started to chew on her lower lip as each second felt like an eternity to both of them as she finally got the small box open.

Hermione's breath caught as her eyes set on a princess cut Amethyst and diamond ring in platinum. The lavish stone had to have been nearly 2 carats and at least two dozen diamonds around the filigree setting that appeared antique but still had a modern style to it as it sat about ¼ off the finger. Never in all her days had she seen something so lush, so elegant and so rich presented to her without any words. Her vocal chords had frozen up, her inner ear started to twinge with nerves and she had to force her eyes away from the glittering piece to look upon the man that gave it to her so freely.

Then, Sirius saw it. He saw the nervous look on her face, the timid body language, the soul searching and practical mind warming into admiration, desire and longing that it rendered Sirius speechless and weak. In the back of his mind he had a mild speech prepared, but when the time came, nothing seemed appropriate. Only the blowing breeze around them filled their ears for both their hearts were beating loudly into their minds. They stood alone together, no eyes on them, above the city of London, for all to see and they were quiet. Their breaths steaming from their mouths as both were taken aback around the ring like a beacon of devotion.

Then she blinked and he saw it. He saw it all.

Like they say one's life flashes before their eyes with the tease of death, Sirius saw the rest of his life laid out in the face of the young witch before him. He saw her twenty years from now, he saw their children, he saw her family welcoming him, he saw their friends congratulating them, he saw himself making love to her anytime he wanted and he saw her holding his hand by his death bed. Sirius was stripped of anything he could ever feel, leaving himself in a most vulnerable state, at her mercy. Her desire was his will. He would forever do whatever she said and because of that, he conceded.

Sirius said nothing, not a breath, not a cough, not a blink and knelt down on one knee. He surrendered.


	38. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

"No, don't dive you son-of-a-"

"Sirius!"

Frustrated and spent, Sirius was practically climbing over the lean bar in the V.I.P. lounge at the quidditch stadium. The second seeker, on the home team, had just spotted the Golden Snitch about three seconds after Harry and was now taking a death defying plunge to the faux grass below them.

In his arms, a small toddler boy clutched to dear life with short arms and tiny hands around Sirius's neck. Watching the older wizard with intense interest and fascination, while wearing a matching oversized Chudley Cannon's jersey, he tried to mimic his level of excitement. Instead, he was hypnotized by the many players flying before him and his voice got quieter as his wide blue eyes tried to take it all in.

Though it was a momentous day, exposing the young boy to his first professional game of quidditch, Hermione was perfectly fine to remain curled up under a team blanket against the plush couches of the V.I.P. lounge. With her feet propped up on a nearby chair, a fresh cup of steaming hot tea with lemon sat on the cocktail table before her brought by one of the several house elves that catered the booth.

"Sirius, do watch your tongue around him. The other day he said the b-word to my mother. But, don't worry, she knew it didn't come from me," Hermione clarified. With a trying gesture, she sat up to watch the other team's chaser score.

Sirius smiled down at the boy, laughing his loud bark-like laugh. "Did you call Grandma Granger a naughty word?" Though trying not to encourage, he couldn't help but give the boy a proud kiss on his head as he hugged him close, while whispering about the play that just happened.

"Don't encourage him!" the angelic voice threatened.

Sirius turned around to face his less than enthusiastic wife with an innocent face. "I wasn't, my love. Just merely whispering to him about the play."

She smirked at him with a sly eye, "Only part of me believes you."

"Go Unka Harry!" the young boy yelled in a feeble voice, trying desperately to mock his father. Sirius spun around to catch whatever it was he had missed, but he was too late. Never mind anyway, the older wizard just beamed, looking at the small boy as if he had just said the most profound thing.

Quieter than usual in the V.I.P., it was only the second game into the season and they were the visiting team. Except for a few teenagers getting drunk on butter beer and the few other stock holders, the booth was relatively empty, making it a very safe and secure environment for a two year-old.

Though Harry treated him like one of his own, he was still only like an uncle, not the godfather. Much to Sirius's detestation, Hermione hadn't even brought up the topic for debate when she had announced at dinner to their friends that Severus Snape was going to be the baby's godfather. At first, Sirius was about to object, but seeing as his wife was nine months pregnant at the time; he wasn't going to win any argument. Not even if she had announced that she wanted to buy the entire island of Australia would he object, because for her, he would get her anything to make her happy. And that included not saying a single word about Snape being the first child's godfather.

The general idea repulsed Sirius to no end that a child of his and Snape's name would share an official parchment from the Ministry, but again, he had no say. His only compromise was that they would immediately try for another baby, so that Harry could be the rightful godfather of one of his children. That is…when Hermione was ready, of course.

"Rigel, can mummy have a hug from her little man?" Hermione asked sweetly with her arms outstretched.

Sirius gently placed the young boy on the floor, letting him run to his mother with strong confident steps of a toddler. Wrapping himself halfway around his mother with his short little arms, Hermione hugged him tightly, laying a kiss on the crown of his head that was covered in thick black curls. Sirius came over and picked up his butter beer bottle to take a swig before going back to the lean bar to get a glimpse of the last few plays left in the game.

He leaned casually, resting his elbows on the lean bar, holding his beer in his hands. While still stroking her son's head lovingly, Hermione's eyes traveled up the length of the handsome older wizard she shared a family with. He practically strutted back over to the lean bar, but as she quickly learned to realize, that was just his normal swagger.

With a flutter in her heart, still even now, she smirked as she admired how well he filled out his faded blue jeans that he wore with thick motorcycle boots peeking out from under the tattered slightly flared cuff. The denim creased where it should, giving the alluring appeal that he wore the jeans like they were made for him in mind.

Sirius sensed her. He'd learned to hone in on what was Hermione and what anything else. He knew sometimes what she was thinking. He knew when she was about to go into labor. He knew when she was frightened for him when he challenged himself and went out on a restricted raid and nearly lost his life…again. More importantly, he knew when she was looking at him.

Sirius glanced back over his shoulder while still leaning over the spectator's lean bar and gave her a flirty signature wink. It was only meant for her, and he offered it only for her to see. He knew he could always get her that way and when he saw the way she bit her lower lip, he knew he'd succeeded.

"Daddy," the young boy called out. When Sirius looked back, the smaller version of him took at him with a run, slamming lovingly into his leg, hoping to get picked up again and to see the golden ball flutter passed again.

"Anything more for you, Mistress Black?" the house elf approaching Hermione asked.

With a grateful thank you, she sent the elf away, hoping that the drunken teenagers in the corner didn't leave too much of a mess. Having a family of three probably wasn't any better, but at least there wasn't going to be dozens of empty butter beer bottles lying around.

Having excused the house elf deprived Hermione of catching the final play, Harry catching the golden snitch. However, she was just in time to witness her husband of nearly four years teaching their son the victory dance. It warmed her cheeks and tickled her insides at the sight.

Hermione pulled the soft blanket off of her and she slowly set her feet down on the floor, one at a time. She waited for Sirius to get closer, before she offered her hands to help her up.

"You ready for a few more pints at the pub, love?" he asked with a teasing twinkle in his eye.

Hermione's eyes darkened, having not even found a smidgen of humor in his question and allowed her hormones to change character for her. "Yes, that's exactly what I want, right now."

Sensing her lack of humor, Sirius quickly leaned over and kissed both the tops of her hands before taking hold of them and pulling her up off the couch. Once she stood upright and balanced, he placed a hand over her swollen belly and ducked in for a kiss on those sweet lips that always made him feel secure.

"It's a boy," he whispered before kissing her.

"Stop it, I told you it's a girl," she said, kissing him back.

"I know it is," he said stubbornly. He swooped down and picked up young Rigel and placed a hand against Hermione's back.

"Stop being so stubborn. It's a girl. You know I'm right, don't argue with the dreams."

Sirius chuckled under his breath as he lifted Rigel onto his shoulders, feeling the little hands quickly cup securely around his father's brow.

"If your dreams are correct, then I'll personally take Snivellus to dinner. His choice."

Hermione reached for her husband's hand, "You might as well start making reservations now, love."

**THE END**

By: Serade Black

community./seradesfanfics/


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